


I'll Return at Dawn

by girahimu_sama



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!, Yu-Gi-Oh! Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, F/F, Fem Thiefshipping
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-18
Updated: 2019-03-24
Packaged: 2019-04-24 16:58:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 37,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14359710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girahimu_sama/pseuds/girahimu_sama
Summary: “To them, the only virtuous path is one where I'm dead, and one where you're obedient, but we deserve life too,” the thief's lips brush over her shoulder, “and light - even if we have to steal it.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Wanted to contribute some fem thiefshipping fanfic since I have been drawing it a lot. This was originally intended to be a one shot but the word count is getting too long for that soooo it looks like it is a multichap now. I'm aiming to keep it under 10 chapters. 6 to 8 chapters is ideal.
> 
> This will be thiefshipping and citronshipping and I will be using sitabethel's name "Merwet" for Malik's past self. (Also please read sita's fic, The Thief King and Her Queen it's beautiful.)
> 
> This fic is rated E for a reason. There is going to be a lot of smut so if that bothers you maybe don't read? Bakura and Merwet are also girls in this (and there are certain gender issues I want to address, whether this makes them non binary or gender non conforming is really up to interpretation) so if that bothers you too, don't read.
> 
> AND I am experimenting with present tense, so apologies for any grammatical weirdness. Still adjusting to it.

The desert sun is a dying fire in the sky, bathing the sands a rich orange. Breathing harshly and glancing over her shoulder every so often, Merwet grips the reins and squeezes the horse’s sides tighter. She doubts they’d follow her this far, but there would be no mercy for a traitor, especially not a careless one.

 

The desert transitions into green the closer she gets to the river, the last traces of sunlight filtering through the trees. The sky is left pale as dusk sets in, and Merwet brings her horse to a trot. The sound of her breathing is harsh against the quiet, and her heart hasn't stopped pounding. It feels like it never would stop.

 

Despite the adrenaline, it's not fear she feels, nor shame. Her side aches - a shallow slash from a spear and a few bruises from the guards - but it's a trivial pain. It only leaves her bitter, more resolved.

 

Flecks of light begin to appear in the sky as dusk gives way to nightfall. Merwet's never seen the stars like this, nor felt the open breeze on her face, unimpeded by the palace walls. It's so quiet, like she's the only person in the world, and that thought swells in her chest, makes her resent that this world was just out of her reach all this time.

 

She's so wrapped up by all the new sights and smells around her that she almost doesn't notice it. The hooves of her horse plod softly into the dirt, but they seem to echo, a ghost just out of step behind them.

 

Merwet can't be sure if she's hearing things and feigns a casual glance back over her shoulder. She sees nothing, but then again it is dark and upon listening closer, the sound is still there.

 

Merwet approaches the river’s edge, sliding off of her horse and leaving him to graze at the patches of grass nearby. She keeps a close eye on him, in case her shadow was after her means of travel, but she doubts it if they have their own horse.

 

Merwet stands on the sandy bank, scanning the opposite side of the river and pretending like she's unaware she's being followed. It's heavy now - the feeling of eyes stabbing into her back.

 

Eventually she grows impatient and reaches for her blade. If they wouldn't make the first move, then she will.

 

“I know you're there,” she growls, drawing her sword and spinning around, pointing at empty air. “Show yourself!”

 

Nothing happens at first. She scans the treeline, but all is still. There's no sound aside from the gentle rush of the river.

 

And then she feels the caress of air against her back.

 

Merwet turns just in time to block the dagger aimed at her heart, her eyes widening. How did they get behind her? She hadn't even heard splashes where the water met the sand.

 

“You're sharper than the average mark, I'll give you that much,” they grit out in a rough voice, bearing against her with their weight. They wear a hood, their features obscured in shadow. They feel strong, but a thick robe falls over their shoulders, leaving it hard to make out their real stature in the gloom. “But not smart enough to conceal your gold, eh? Now be a good girl and hand it over.”

 

Merwet scoffs, pushing back. There's a glint of steel in the moonlight and the grating sound of metal on metal as they break apart. Merwet idly wonders how long they were following her for, and why they thought they could meet a sword with a dagger.

 

“Why should I, thief? You'll ‘spare me’...?” Merwet laughs. She doesn't really want to kill anyone, but the thief had attacked her first. Perhaps they would simply make an easy target for her aggression. “You should be begging for me to spare you!”

 

She lunges but her blade meets empty air. The thief dances away from her strikes, on the defensive now. Merwet grits her teeth, snarling with every missed attack, each swing growing broader, less controlled.

 

The thief _grins_ beneath his robe and kicks a spray of sand into her face, causing her to yelp and stumble back. Half blind, she sees him coming at her and twists her body, planting her foot in his middle and sending him careening across the bank.

 

She spits out sand, glaring as she advances. His back is wide open and she raises her sword, bringing it down with brutal force. It buries in something tough and somewhat fleshy, but it isn't his back.

 

“What…?” She gasps. Her blade is halted mid air as if by some invisible wall.

 

The thief merely turns his head and flashes her that same savage grin.

 

“Well, at least this wasn't boring.”

 

The air shimmers, and Merwet realizes she hasn't struck an invisible wall, but a _giant creature made of scales and feathers_. Its snake half is wrapped around the thief like a shield, its entire body gleaming in the moonlight. Merwet's jaw drops, so stunned she's unable to process that she stands no chance against this thing.

 

The creature swings it arm and stars burst across Merwet's vision. She tumbles across the sand, splashing into the shallows of the river, her sword spinning off somewhere. For several long moments, she can do nothing but lay there, listening to the footsteps of the thief approaching.

 

“Though I am curious why someone like you would leave the palace…”

 

Merwet's eyes widen and she pushes herself up - or tries to. She winces, one side of her entire body feeling bruised.

 

“Don't look so surprised! I know that's a noble’s sword, and you look too delicate to be any old tomb robber.” The thief stands above her now, and Merwet can just barely see his eyes. They were lit up with amusement. “Why would anyone run away from such a spoiled, lavish lifestyle? Were your servants being too unruly?”

 

He cackles, the sound loud and harsh like a hyena in the desert. “Heaven forbid, was there not enough oil in your bath?”

 

The words don't quite sink in at first. Its slow, like poison crawling through her veins, and then it burns like a match to oil.

 

“Spoiled!?” Merwet shoves herself to her feet. Suddenly she doesn't care that this man has a powerful ka. She doesn't care that she's been disarmed. All she cares about is tearing the smug look off of his face. “You know nothing about what I've been through, lowly thief!”

 

As her voice rises, so does the temperature in the air around her, the air crackling with energy. She doesn't realize it, but steam begins to rise off of the surface of the water she's standing in. The thief’s smirk drops off his face and he has the sense to step back, much to Merwet's satisfaction.

 

“The last thing I was is _spoiled!”_

 

A new light fills the air, streaking the river with orange and yellow, like sunlight had somehow bled through the night sky. It was bright, brighter even than the glow of the pearl white monster. Fire, but Merwet doesn't realize where it's coming from. All she feels is burning - burning so intense it might eat her alive - and the flames soon consume her vision.

 

…

 

She comes to with her back flat against the sand and the water lapping at her from all sides. She opens her eyes to find her own blade at her throat. The thief is standing above her again, but he's panting, not laughing anymore - he even looks perturbed.

 

The fire is gone and her anger has dulled. Now she just feels drained. She doesn't remember what happened but somewhere in that gap in her memory, the thief's hood had been knocked off during their struggle.

 

It's like moonlight spilling over his shoulders, his hair giving off the same glow as the beast still hovering in the air above them. Merwet's brows furrow when she spots the scar running down one side of his face.

 

“Wait… you're…” she utters, her eyes slowly widening, “... the King of Thieves.”

 

The thief raises a brow and snorts, but is careful not to take the sword off of her. He's not killing her, and Merwet wonders why.

 

“So word of my accomplishments has pierced those thick palace walls…”

 

“You're like a ghost, appearing only to desecrate the most sacred of tombs and kill whoever stands in your way, and then vanishing into the desert.” Merwet felt she probably should have said the words with more disgust, but her voice was neutral. “People call you a demon of silver hair.”

 

He grins again, wide and like a jackal. It sends a thrill up her spine.

 

“They’d be damn right.”

 

“Take me with you.”

 

She doesn't give herself room to think when she says it. It’s not like there's anywhere else to go anyway, nor much else to lose.

 

The thief's composure breaks for a moment, and then he starts to laugh again.

 

“Did you hit your head?”

 

“You hate the royal family, don't you?” She goes on, face like stone, hardened with contempt. “I hate them too. They imprisoned my bloodline, those of us born with the hair of Ra. We must live in their shadows, because the blessings of the Gods are meant for the Pharaoh's alone.”

 

Once she starts talking it's like she can't stop. Even if this thief would only laugh at her, or impale her on her own blade anyway, she has to say it. It couldn't be left in the shadows anymore. She couldn't hold this truth all on her own, and who better to understand than an enemy of the kingdom?

 

He isn't laughing, and the blade remains still above her throat.

 

“It’s a privilege to serve our Pharaoh's. It's a privilege to live our lives in the dark so that they can seize the light,” Merwet spits, her anger creeping back into her blood. “And that's not everything. They're blind to the corruption inside their own palace. I saw it… those experiments performed by the high priest, but I'd be killed if I ever tried to bring it to light.”

 

Her nails dig against her palms as she clenches her fists. Speaking all of this out loud makes her want to tear into something.

 

“That's why I left. We’re forbidden to leave the grounds, or train in the ways of the sword, or study heka, but that didn't stop me.” She gives a bitter laugh. “I'm already branded as a traitor. I'd have to beg for my life if I ever went crawling back to them, but I would rather die.” She meets the thief's gaze without fear, just pure resolve. “They wouldn't listen to me, so to Hell with them all.”

 

She says that, but there's a brief flicker of sorrow in her eyes. Perhaps she would never see her sister again after tonight, nor her brother, nor her father, but she remember that most of them had been deaf to her concerns as well. She swallows her emotions and stares up her blade readily.

 

Perhaps it's better this way.

 

The thief's expression is unreadable, and he hasn't said anything for a long time, but Merwet can see something shift behind his eyes. Whether that means she would die or not, Merwet can't tell.

 

And then his grip tightens on the handle of her blade and he pulls back his arm. Merwet squeezes her eyes shut out of reflex, bracing for the metal to bite into her.

 

There's a soft, wet slosh to the right of her head. Her eyes fly open to spot her sword stuck in the sand beside her and the thief stepping away.

 

Merwet pushes herself up into a sitting position, watching him closely.

 

“... You're not going to kill me?”

 

The thief snorts and crosses his arms.

 

“Don't look so hopeful. Even if you do have some talent with the sword, your heka nearly blew up in your own face. Who’s to say you wouldn't just slow me down if I took you with me? What else do you have to offer?”

 

Gods above, he was actually considering it. Merwet almost feels dizzy. She knew she might encounter rogues out here but she never imagined she would cross paths with the King of Thieves himself, much less have him consider working with her.

 

“I have knowledge of the palace like no one else. The routines of the guards, the secret passageways under and around the palace, I can tell you all of them.”

 

It's almost offensive how easily the words slide out, but perhaps the ancestors of the royal family shouldn't have imposed such a fate on her if they didn't expect betrayal.

 

The thief strokes his chin in contemplation. “A fair point… but how do I know your information is trustworthy? How do I know you aren't some spy sent out by the royal family?”

 

His grey gaze pierces through her and she can't exactly blame him for the mistrust. With a sigh, she pushes herself to her feet, ignoring her blade for now as she steps towards him.

 

She doesn't quite know what she's going to do, or what she can do to convince him she's not an enemy. It's instinct that guides her more than anything. His stance is guarded, but Merwet draws closer anyway, eyes flicking up to the ka hanging over his shoulder. That thing could kill her in one blow, but the beast remains still, so she takes the opportunity to lean in.

 

Her lips brush against the thief's, and she hopes he picks up the unspoken suggestion. She's already betrayed her kingdom. Offering herself to a thief is probably a minor crime in comparison. Then again, he isn't any regular thief.

 

His mouth is unresponsive against hers, and the kiss only lasts as long as he is stunned. A rough hand flies to her shoulder and shoves her back, but Merwet is quick to notice how he averts his face from her as he wipes his mouth. It’s almost like he is trying to hide. His voice is harsh, but unsteady. “Don't tell me you were some kind of concubine at the palace!”

 

“Why? Does that excite you?” Merwet grins despite herself, despite the fact they were trying to kill each other just minutes prior. It doesn't seem to matter when she has the chance to accompany the Thief King. “I'm sure the Thief King could bed any woman he wants. Who better than a daughter of Ra?”

 

“Arrogant little bird, aren't you?” The thief snorts, flipping his hood back over his head.

 

“You're not denying it.” It's as good of an agreement as any to Merwet. She walks back over to reclaim her sword, pulling it from the sand and returning it to her holster.

 

The thief scans the trees. “Enough messing around. Your little outburst scared off our horses.”

 

Merwet glances up, realizing her horse is indeed nowhere in sight. Her eyes narrow into a glare.

 

“You're the one that attacked me!”

 

“You could have alerted anyone else to our location with all that light!” He snaps back as he begins walking off without even checking to see if she's following. The great white beast above him fades into the night as he calls it back into his body. “Learn some self control!”

 

Merwet grits her teeth as she begrudgingly begins to trail after him. She doesn't know what she expects from the most dangerous criminal in Egypt, but it certainly isn't this petulance. “Go drown in the river!”

 

“You are so lucky you have a pretty face…”

 

…

 

Merwet stirs awake as the sky streaks with pale gold and pink. She pulls the robe she had brought tighter over her shoulders and nestles back down, closing her eyes. The sound of footsteps makes her jolt back awake, and she pushes herself up to see the thief walking back over to the dying fire.

 

He snorts when he catches her eye, letting a sack slide from his shoulder and plopping down next to it. He reaches inside and produces a handful of dates, nibbling at them and pointedly ignoring her. Merwet wonders where he got those from.

 

They've barely spoken a word to each other since the previous night - not that Merwet minds. They had argued back and forth until they found their horses further upstream, by which time they had exhausted themselves and made camp.

 

Merwet stares at the Thief King, but the Thief King is staring at the river, watching the rays of dawn paint the waters. It had been hard to see in the dark of the previous night, but she gets a good look at his features now. He's handsome, yet there is a delicate quality there that Merwet can't quite place. Then again, that could just be the fact he is smaller and more wiry than Merwet expects - probably from irregular eating habits.

 

“So, what's our plan?” She breaks the silence to ask.

 

The thief inclines his head back towards her. “‘Our' plan…?”

 

“Yes, since we're partners now.” Merwet smiles, not missing a beat.

 

The thief narrows his eyes, tearing a date in half with his teeth like a wolf ripping the head off of a fresh kill. “I don't recall agreeing to this.”

 

“I don't remember you saying no either.”

 

“I should take your horse and leave you for dead,” he grunts, glaring out at the horizon.

 

“Why didn't you just kill me in my sleep then?” Merwet points out. She leans closer, smirking. “Could it be… you want another kiss?”

 

His shoulders stiffen, but only for a moment.

 

“Wishful thinking. I'm still deciding if it's worth killing you or not.”

 

Merwet's eyelids lower, and she's unsure whether she should be offended or not. She doesn't know what kind of game the thief is playing - hell, the thief himself probably doesn't even know what kind of game he's playing - but she doesn't feel like figuring it out right this moment.

 

Pushing herself to her feet, she begins to walk to the river’s edge. “I'm going to bathe. If you really desire to get rid of me, perhaps you'll make off when my back is turned.”

 

Somehow, she doubts he will. She's not sure why she's placed so much trust in the thief, but he's had dozens of opportunities to kill her or leave and he's taken none of them. With a powerful ka like that, Merwet knows she stands little chance in a battle against him, so she's entirely at his whim anyway.

 

He acts repulsed, yet he's called her pretty once. Something about her has his attention - if not her body then perhaps her own strength. As aggravating as his behaviour is, Merwet can't help but feel he's not being entirely honest either.

 

Perhaps that's what compels her to keep pushing her luck.

 

She slides her dress off and steps into the waters, shivering at the cold. Finding a spot between the reeds, she sets to washing herself, enjoying the breeze on her skin and the morning light beginning to warm her body.

 

Merwet's eyes light up as she watches the sun rise higher into the sky, life filling the land wherever its glow reached. A grin spreads across her face as the Nile glitters around her. She can't help but bring her hands down, splashing at the water and sending droplets everywhere. Something warm and unrestrained rises in her chest and before she knows it, the laugh bursts out of her and fills the air.

 

But, as free as she feels, a darker emotion churns beneath her ribs.

 

How could anyone think being locked away in the palace was a privilege? True she had a bed, and food, and shelter, but Merwet saw it for what it truly was: a gilded cage.

 

Out here is where she belongs, and she's greedy for all the light can touch.

 

She pauses when she feels eyes on her, but when she turns to look, the thief's back is all that greets her. Twice more it happens, and by the fourth time, Merwet decides to step out of the water and pull her dress back on.

 

“You know, you still haven't told me your name,” she says, plopping down right beside him.

 

“Why should I?” The thief scowls at her proximity, but Merwet doesn't leave him anywhere to run. “There's no guarantee you'll be of use to me.”

 

Merwet's gaze turns sly. She waits until the thief is swallowing around another date.

 

“If you tell me it, it gives me something to call out when I'm under you later.”

 

The thief jerks, eyes widening as he struggles not to choke. When he recovers, he shoots her a resentful glare.

 

“Most people would run away, or curse at me, or stone me, even without knowing of my thief status.” Distrust is just as heavy in his voice as it is in his eyes. “Is there something wrong with you, or are you really this foolish?”

 

Merwet's gaze sobers and she turns her attention to the pile of charcoal that used to be a fire.

 

“They spoke of your deeds in the palace all the time, and how much grief you caused, and your growing threat. At first I was appalled like the rest of them, but as the truth of the kingdom dawned on me more and more, I didn't just think you were justified… I admired you.”

 

There's a long pause before the the thief breaks the silence.

 

“Bakura.”

 

Merwet turns her head to look at him again. There's an intensity in his eyes that makes her stomach flutter. If she had known a bit of ego stroking would get him to cooperate, she would have done it sooner.

 

But that wasn't really her intention with her words. She had spoken from a place of truth.

 

“There, I gave you mine,” Bakura continues, that jackal grin spreading across his face again, “now you have to give me yours so I can add you to my harem of women.”

 

Merwet gives him a nonplussed stare. “You just told me people rarely come near you and now I'm supposed to believe you have a harem?”

 

Bakura rolls his eyes. “I was just going off your own stupid ideas about me!”

 

“So I really was your first kiss?” Merwet teases, knowing it will only rile him up more.

 

He's not looking at her again, his jaw right with tension. She swears she can even see the faintest glow on his cheeks and reaches over, using her finger to tilt his face back towards her.

 

“Is that why you're so shy about it?”

 

“‘Shy’...?” Bakura's voice is thick and fierce. “Who said anything about being shy?”

 

Merwet's shoulders slump in mock disappointment.

 

“So you really don't want me? Defiling a Pharaoh's servant doesn't tempt you even a little bit?”

 

She can see that it does. Even though she's the one holding his chin, Bakura has the look of a cat with a mouse dangling from its claws, unsure if it should kill it now or later.

 

Merwet shifts her grip, fingers lightly digging into his jaw as she brings their faces closer. She can feel his breath ghosting over her lips.

 

“You can be honest with me.”

 

It seems to snap the last of his patience.

 

“I'd want you more if you talked _less.”_

 

With a bare of his teeth, he closes the gap between their mouths. It's a bit too forceful, and clumsy, and their teeth click together until Bakura eases up. Despite the lack of finesse, Merwet shivers and arches closer, her hands sliding to his shoulders.

 

“Definitely your first kiss,” she breathes as they part.

 

Bakura growls and draws them together again like he has something to prove, roughly palming the curve of her waist.

 

Merwet's hand finds its way between their bodies, fingers trailing along his taut stomach. Her palm slides upwards, moving under the edge of his robe. She expects a flat and firm chest - only to suck in a small gasp and break their kiss when she realizes she's cupping the swell of a breast.

 

“Wait…”

 

She pushes both edges of the robe apart and stares, wondering how she didn't notice it before. Bakura watches, amused.

 

“Disappointed…?”

 

“Not at all.” Merwet really isn't. She remembers a servant girl in the palace that she would drag aside sometimes, and she feels more at ease with the situation, more familiar. Her eyes dart back up to Bakura’s face, smouldering as she grabs both of her breasts and rolls them in her palms. “Should I call you Thief Queen?”

 

Bakura sucks in a gasp through her teeth. She grabs Merwet's wrists and pushes her onto her back, a thigh sliding between her legs as she pins her arms above her head.

 

“Call me whatever you want, just make sure you scream it.” Bakura ducks her head down, but instead of going for Merwet's lips again, she attacks her neck. She sucks and bites until there are a trail of purple-ish marks leading down to her chest, releasing Merwet's wrists so she can yank the thick straps of her dress apart.

 

“Oh Gods…” Merwet sighs as Bakura's tongue swirls against her nipple, the thief sucking the hardened flesh into her mouth and giving it the same rough treatment. “Maybe I didn't give you enough credit.”

 

Bakura briefly pulls away from her skin to speak. “Gets boring in the desert.”

 

She palms at the other breast, twisting the nipple between her thumb and forefinger. Merwet gives a delighted mewl, squirming as Bakura soothes the sting with her tongue. The thief takes her time, sucking and licking and kneading until Merwet's breathing is harsh and impatient. Merwet runs her fingers through Bakura's hair, pressing on the top of her head until she snorts and eventually moves lower.

 

She grabs the hem of Merwet's dress and shoves it up past her stomach, shifting down between her legs and teasing her lips along her abdomen. She runs her tongue along the sensitive area where Merwet's hip meets her thigh and enjoys the way she trembles beneath her.

 

“Fuck, there…!” Merwet whines as Bakura's bottom lip brushes just over her hood. Just as quickly, Bakura course corrects and bites her inner thigh instead, her gaze sharp and devious.

 

“You damned thief!” Merwet growls, hand fisting in that shock of white hair as she glares down at her. She's panting desperately for breath, and she doubts she looks as fierce as she wants to with her face as flushed as it was, but Bakura’s gaze glosses over with intensity.

 

“So demanding…” Bakura purrs and tilts her head to give Merwet's cunt a proper, languid lick. Merwet's breathing hitches, a moan sighing from her and becoming a hiss as the thief's nails drag along the curve of her ass. Bakura hooks her arms under Merwet's thighs and grips the top of them for better leverage, committing fully to what she's doing.

 

She sucks the outer lips, dipping her tongue between them and dragging it upwards to that spot that had Merwet whining. She seals her lips around her clitoris, swirling her tongue against it between harsh breathing of her own. Each taste she takes is more enthusiastic than the last, greedy like she's been trapped in the desert without water for days.

 

“Bakura…”

 

It's hard not to get swept up and lost, Merwet's eyes lidded as her chest heaved. She grips Bakura’s hair with both hands now, stomach flexing as she rocks her hips against the slick warmth of that tongue. She doesn't even try to hold back the sounds spilling out of her. Before, with the servant girl, she had to be quiet, but not now.

 

“Bakura…!” She cries it out this time, head rolling back as her movements become less controlled. The sky stretches infinitely above her, Ra’s light sinking into her skin, but she squeezes her eyes shut as the pleasure begins to mount. Bakura's tongue is fast and repetitive now, the tip of it sliding back and forth over the sensitive nub.

 

Merwet's nerves sing, white hot with pleasure as she bucks up, thighs squeezing around Bakura's head and toes curling against her back. The tension winds down, and so does Bakura's tongue, the thief unable to resist taking a few last laps at her heat.

 

Bakura lets her legs slide off of her shoulders, pushing herself up and looking far too smug for Merwet to tolerate it for long. After her breathing calms down enough, Merwet brushes a few unruly blonde strands away from her face and sits up as well.

 

“Merwet,” She says, prompting a confused scowl from Bakura. She rolls her eyes. “My name.”

 

Before Bakura can say anything, she reaches for the belt of her shendyt and jerks her closer so Bakura is kneeling over her hips. Bakura narrows her eyes down at her, watching her closely, but Merwet merely grins back up and smooths her palm down her stomach. The crimson robe may have added some bulk that really wasn't there, and Bakura may have been thin, but Merwet can feel the lithe muscles hidden beneath the skin. More importantly, she feels how they tremble slightly beneath her touch, despite the sour front Bakura puts up.

 

“You're going to need it too.” Merwet jerks the sash of the shendyt loose so it hangs down slightly, exposing the dip of Bakura’s pelvis. Bakura snorts and glances away for a moment, but Merwet can see her eyes shift back to her as her fingers draw patterns against Bakura’s lower abdomen. The further down she ventures, the more Bakura's eyelids droop.

 

Merwet rubs her thumb along her hip bone, following the curve downwards, and Bakura's lips part, her breathing audibly picking up. Merwet stops, enjoying the way Bakura's nose wrinkles in impatience.

 

“You're such a bother,” the thief hisses.

 

“You teased me. I don't see why I shouldn't tease you,” Merwet shoots back, but finds she's too curious to wait any longer either.

 

She shoves her hand down the front of the cloth, fingers briefly rubbing through the fine hairs just above the other woman's heat, and her triumph only grows when she finds Bakura's folds slick and waiting for her.

 

_“Ahh…”_

 

Bakura's jaw drops, and she looks like she wants to close her eyes completely, but she forces herself to lock sights with Merwet. Her hands fly to Merwet's shoulders to steady herself, fingers digging crescents against the skin. Experimentally, Merwet spreads her lower lips and teases Bakura's entrance with her middle and pointer finger, running them back up and massaging her own wetness against her clit. Bakura gives a shuddering breath, body curling towards Merwet's as a ragged moan spills from her. Merwet decides she likes the sound and wants to hear it as many times as she can.

 

Merwet circles her fingers against the nub, rubs it back and forth, gives it a light pinch, her pace picking up as Bakura's breathing does. She watches Bakura's eyes finally slide shut and her brow crease as her hips begin to rock. The thief's voice starts with low growls and barely contained gasps, but it's not long before she begins to whimper and mewl.

 

It was hard to believe at first, that the Thief King hadn't bed down with anyone, but Merwet believes it now, and her mouth grows dry. Her pulse thuds against her ribs as she watches, hand beginning to ease into Bakura's rhythm. Feeling breathless herself, Merwet lets her touch slide forward even further, until her fingertips press against Bakura’s entrance again.

 

There's a sound from Bakura, a grunt - perhaps a word clamped down on by teeth. Merwet smirks.

 

There's probably an irony to be found here.

 

“What's that?” Merwet croons, knowing very well what Bakura wants. “Do you want me to fuck you, Thief King?”

 

Bakura opens her eyes to fix her with a glare, but Merwet is more interested in seeing her face in pleasure so she slips two of her fingers into Bakura's cunt.

 

Bakura gives a huff as she shifts, pace stuttering as she finds a new rhythm. Merwet curves her fingers as she lets Bakura adjust herself, leaning forward and trailing kisses between her breasts. Bakura shivers again and gives a pleased coo, lifting her hips with each shift of her body.

 

Merwet's free hand guides Bakura's breast to her mouth and she sucks the nipple as her fingers pump in and out of Bakura's body. She doesn't have to do much as Bakura clenches her eyes shut and rolls into Merwet's thrusts, riding her fingers in earnest now.

 

“Merwet!”

 

Bakura's cry sends a flush of heat between Merwet's legs and her free hand flies to Bakura’s ass instead, squeezing it harshly.

 

Something in Bakura seems to break and she leans back instead of against Merwet, resting her palms on Merwet's legs. It seems to give her more leverage, because her voice cracks in pitch and she pants for air, heavier than before.

 

Merwet's beginning to see how Bakura works now. She was ready to kill her one moment and willing to let her work with her the next. She was glaring at her out of mistrust and curling against her as if to hide, and then she was leaning back and showing her everything. The shendyt has fallen away by now and Merwet sees where her fingers are buried in Bakura's body. The thief moans and fucks herself on them, breasts bouncing with every movement.

 

It's not long before Merwet feels the tightness around her fingers, Bakura's pace growing uneven and erratic. She's swearing and cursing under her breath and Merwet can't quite make out the words, but she hears her name as Bakura's body tenses up once more before beginning to wind down.

 

“That's it, call out for me,” Merwet breathes, a little dazed as she watches. She pulls out her fingers so Bakura can slump down, bringing them up to her mouth and licking away the juices.

 

Bakura's eyes are foggy with lingering arousal as she takes in the sight, but her composure soon returns. She climbs off of Merwet and drops beside her again, a foot of space between them as she adjusts her clothing.

 

Merwet has to admit, she's kind of disappointed. She pulls the straps of her dress back up and smooths the skirt down over her legs again. She was sure to keep the thief in her sight, suspecting that she would run off now that she had gotten what she wanted.

 

“Well, that was fun, but I really don't have much need for a concubine,” Bakura snorts, patting down her mess of hair.

 

“You thought I was being literal with that? No, think of it like…” Merwet taps her chin as she considers a suitable title, “a mutually beneficial partnership. We take down the Pharaoh's court together, but there's no reason why we can't have some fun along the way.”

  
Bakura seems to accept this proposal, but there's a grave edge in her eyes that has Malik suddenly paying rapt attention. “If we're going to be partners, I'm going to take you back to my village first.” A twitch of a smirk curls her lip, but there's little humour in it. “If you truly hate the royal family… this is something you should see.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is already 10k and it's only the second chapter I'm crying inside. The beginning is relationship building so hopefully after that's done I won't end up with such a monstrous word count. Hopefully. :'D

They ride all day until they reach an Oasis close to their destination, stopping to let their horses drink. Merwet had complained about the heat the entire journey, and she strips down at the earliest opportunity, insisting she had to bathe again.

 

Like before, Bakura finds it hard to look away, averting her eyes only when Merwet's gaze drifts back over to her. She sits on the bank and waits, keeping watch for the both of them.

 

Anyone would be stupid not to think the woman was beautiful, so Bakura thinks she's justified in drinking it all in. However, she can't help but notice something marring that beauty. Across Merwet's shoulder blades, a small set of wings appears to be etched into the skin. Bakura figures it's a brand of some kind, and she almost doesn't want to imagine what it could symbolize or where it came from. Perhaps she would question Merwet about it later.

 

An anger seizes her when she looks upon the young woman. It's not directed at Merwet - it's at the royal family for thinking they could claim the high ground after imprisoning a group of people for their powers.

 

Then again, it doesn't surprise her at all either.

 

It wasn't like she herself didn't plan on using Merwet's powers to her advantage - and she could see Merwet was clearly powerful - but Bakura wasn't going to lock her away and hide her from the light either.

 

Bakura isn't quick to trust anyone, but the way Merwet splashes around and smiles and drinks in the sun around her is too genuine to be that of a spy. And she's seen the most dishonest of society, the most crafty. If she had even an inkling of suspicion about the woman's intentions, she would have slit her throat already.

 

It almost surprises her how easy it is to be around her. Bakura wouldn't call it trust yet, but she believes Merwet wants her former captors dead, and it would be counterproductive to kill a potential ally.

 

And Bakura has seen contempt for the royal family before, but never from within the palace itself. Perhaps that's what intrigues her the most.

 

Merwet's skin seems to be more pale than it should be, and Bakura has to wonder if she's ever seen the light at all. Perhaps she's caught glimpses of it, just enough to be greedy for more.

 

Bakura glowers at the sand, scooping some in her hand. She lets it fall from her clenched fingers, fantasizing about crushing the throats of the royals. Were they truly blind? Could they not see where Merwet belonged?

 

Of course not. They’d pluck the sun from the sky for themselves and leave the rest of the land to rot.

 

“Hey, Bakura.”

 

Bakura's eyes widen, so lost in her thoughts she hadn't noticed the pair of feet stopping in the sand in front of her. Her gaze follows them up the calves, then the legs, until she's looking Merwet right in the face. The other woman leans so close to her Bakura feels she should move back.

 

But she doesn't. Instead she just grunts and tries not to think about how good Merwet's skin looks dyed rich in the flames of the sunset.

 

“Hm?”

 

Merwet grins, and Bakura doesn't like the way it sends a shiver up her spine. With very little warning, Merwet swings her leg over Bakura’s hip and plops down in her lap like it were any other seat. Her hands slide to Bakura’s shoulders.

 

“Can I ask you for something?” She says, breath ghosting over Bakura’s lips.

 

Bakura tenses, the sudden weight sitting against her and heat pressing into her making her head spin.

 

Bakura avoids people, only dealing with them when she has to. Touch from others was a foreign, distant memory, and she hears her own voice more than anyone else's. The press of skin against hers was like a spark against a dry field of wheat, and the flames would rage for a long time.

 

Merwet couldn't possibly know how much it affects her, how much it _tempts_ her now that she's had a taste of closeness once. Bakura’s hands clench into fists, trying to resist grabbing Merwet's hips.

 

Merwet's eyes are lidded as she watches her. Perhaps she does know after all.

 

“Knowing you it will probably cost an arm and a leg…” Bakura grumbles, masking the flush of heat stirring in her belly with annoyance.

 

“No, just your mouth…” Merwet traces Bakura’s lips with the tips of her fingers. “... Unless you want to give me more than that.”

 

She leans closer, her bare breasts pushing against Bakura’s chest. Bakura feels the wetness from the oasis slide against her skin and sink into her robe, and it takes all of her self control not to shove Merwet to the ground and kiss the rest of the droplets from her body.

 

“What is it?” Bakura’s voice comes out more strained than she intends. Merwet kisses the shell of her ear.

 

“Teach me how to summon my ka.”

 

With a growl, Bakura plants a hand on Merwet's middle and thrusts her body away, glaring at her.

 

“Don't think you can toy with me to get what you want.”

 

Merwet is nimble enough not to land on her ass in the sand. She still shoots Bakura a borderline offended glare, but her tone is mocking, even playful.

 

“What's wrong? Can't the Thief King handle a little teasing?”

 

“I can handle anything.” Bakura snorts, pushing herself to her feet. “You're testing the limits of my patience, however.”

 

“Why?” Merwet stands up as well. “Because I annoy you so much, or because you're finding it hard to resist me?”

 

“I'll teach you how to summon your damn ka. I want to see what you can do anyway.” Bakura huffs, trying to ignore the blood rising to her face. “You have to be at least _somewhat_ useful if you want to take on the Pharaoh's court.”

 

“Avoiding the question, are we?”

 

“Do you wanna learn or not?” Bakura snaps, wondering why she was even bothering with the brat. To her surprise, Merwet rushes to dress herself, looking way too damn enthusiastic.

 

“Of course, _master.”_

 

Bakura shakes her head with a smirk. “You mock me now, but I bet you'll be calling that out later.”

 

“Ha!” Merwet throws her head back. “Fucking me once gets you that confident, eh?”

 

Gods, Bakura was going to have her hands full with her. “We'll see how much you feel like running that mouth of yours after a few rounds of training.”

 

…

 

Merwet bounces her knee against the ground, gritting her teeth. She must have shifted at least a dozen times by now, the ground rough against her ass. Even after she lays her traveler's cloak beneath her to sit on, it doesn't lessen the discomfort. Each moment that passes is like sand against her skin.

 

“I can't concentrate with you making all that racket over there.”

 

“This is not what I had in mind.” Merwet snaps back, opening her eyes to shoot Bakura a scathing look. “When I said I wanted to learn how to summon my ka, I didn't mean sitting around.”

 

Bakura keeps her back straight and her eyes closed as she breathes deeply. She sits across from Merwet, the fire between them, warming them in the desert night. “It's called meditating. You have to learn how to do it before you can use your ka.”

 

“I don't see how _doing nothing_ is going to help with anything.”

 

Bakura cracks an eye open. “Maybe if you shut up and focused you might get somewhere.”

 

Merwet throws her hands up. “And what am I supposed to be focusing on?”

 

“Everything and nothing.” Bakura shrugs.

 

“What does that even mean?” Merwet shoves herself to her feet, unable to tolerate sitting still anymore. It reminds her too much of hours and hours spent in the dark, studying by candlelight.Perhaps that's why she can't stomach it. “You don't even know how to teach me this, do you?”

 

“I'm just doing what works for me. This is how I learned,” Bakura sighs, giving up on meditation herself.

 

“Well it's not working for me!”

 

Bakura digs a finger into her ear and twists it around, scowling like Merwet's yelling is causing her to go deaf early. “You know, I don't have to show you how to do this.”

 

“Clearly!” Merwet crosses her arms. “Just tell me what you did before, right before you summoned that beast, because I know you weren't meditating in the middle of our fight.”

 

“You honestly think you're going to be able to summon your ka tonight?” Bakura chuckles, only causing Merwet's blood pressure to rise. “Sorry, but it takes more time than that. I don't even remember how long it took me to master summoning Diabound.”

 

“Maybe you're just a shitty teacher.”

 

Bakura stands up as well, mouth buried in her hand as she paces to the side.

 

“Maybe this isn't the right way for you…”

 

Merwet watches her closely, warily. There's a shift in the thief's demeanor, one that tells her she shouldn't let her guard down for a moment.

 

Bakura leisurely circles around the fire, head tipped back towards the stars as she hums in contemplation. And then her sights snap to Merwet and she grins, the air shimmering around her.

 

Merwet has to throw herself to the side, using one hand to spring back to her feet as a giant white fist punches the earth where she had just been standing.

 

“What the-?!”

 

Diabound’s serpent tail swipes at her and she's forced to backpedal, her eyes wide as she processes the betrayal.

 

Bakura cackles at the sky, the hyena pitch sending a shiver down Merwet's spine.

 

“You asked me to show you, so I'm showing you!” The mirth drains away from her face as Diabound lunges again. “Or maybe I'll just kill you and leave your annoying ass in the desert to rot.”

 

Her ka claws the air an inch before Merwet's face. It would have taken her head off had Merwet not moved back in time.

 

“You'll learn very fast you can't have everything at your whim, spoiled brat!”

 

There's that same hot, stabbing flash through Merwet's blood, her eyes narrowing to a glare despite the fear she should be feeling. She cries out as the serpent’s tail catches her middle and she skids along the sand. She snarls in frustration as she rolls to her feet once more. Her sword is by the fire and Bakura blocks her path. She can't play this game of dodge and run all night. Diabound is closing in.

 

She's helpless.

 

“Heh heh, I like watching you dance…” Bakura grins. “But let's see you try and dodge this!”

 

She jabs her finger up at Diabound as energy swirls to life between his palms, churning faster and faster.

 

Merwet's mind goes blank, a strange numbness blanketing her limbs. No anger. No fear of that blast tearing her apart. There is just the heat coursing through her veins.

 

She shuts her eyes because it feels like her body will be turned to ash on the spot, and she doesn't see the shape that pulls itself from her.

 

…

 

It’s Bakura's turn to back up as the heat threatens to singe her skin off. It's the same as before, the air around Merwet combusting into bright golden flames.

 

But, unlike before, Bakura can see the shape of the beast that emerges from them. The great bird rises up, spreading its wings and casting light far into the desert. They are so far from civilisation that Bakura doesn't worry about attracting unwanted attention.

 

In fact, that's the last thing on her mind as she stands, frozen before the wall of fire, the glow reflected in her eyes. Diabound's Spiral Wave flickers and then dies in his arms.

 

And then the phoenix blinks out of existence, leaving nothing but a thin trail of smoke behind. Bakura feels like she can breathe again.

 

Merwet is still standing there, but not for long. With a groan, she begins to fall forward.

 

Bakura calls Diabound back into her and rushes to brace her body. She never intended on killing Merwet. She attacked her to test a theory - and perhaps take out some aggression at the same time.

 

And Merwet had done better than she could have predicted. Summoning her ka like that, even if it had only lasted a moment, was impressive, and not even Bakura was stubborn enough to deny that.

 

“Can't say I didn't teach you anything now,” Bakura snickers.

 

Merwet cracks her eyes open long enough to manage a final weak glare up at her.

 

“I hate you…”

 

Her eyes fell shut and she went limp in Bakura's arms. Bakura stood up, tossing Merwet over her shoulder like a sack of treasure taken from a tomb and making her way back to their camp.

 

“We'll work on it.”

 

…

 

Another day of travel stretches into dusk and Bakura can see the peak just over her village. Her face sets into grim neutrality, the silence weighing down over the both of them.

 

Merwet hasn't said much since last night, still sour from their clash, not that Bakura cares. Let the princess’s feathers get a little ruffled.

 

However, Merwet speaks up, perhaps out of discomfort. The shift in the air is tangible, and growing more suffocating with each passing moment.

 

“How much longer?”

 

“We're almost there. It's just up ahead.”

 

With a small huff, Merwet pulls ahead of her, apparently keen on getting there first.

 

“I really wouldn't do that.”

 

“Why not?” Merwet snaps back. As if to answer her, her horse pulls to an abrupt stop, trodding in place and whining. He jerks his head against the direction Merwet is trying to lead him. Merwet gives a futile tug on the reins. “What's wrong with you?”

 

“He can probably sense the ghosts.” Bakura said, gripping her reins tighter as her own horse grew anxious.

 

The irritation drains from Merwet's face and understanding begins to dawn on her. When she speaks again, her voice is much quieter, even tentative. “Ghosts…?”

 

Bakura snorts, changing course and beckoning Merwet to follow.

 

“There's a stable nearby. We'll tie the horses there.” She says, pausing. “And I should warn you not to show any fear either, when we enter the village. They get… excited.”

 

Once they reach the stable, she slides off of her horse and goes to tie the reins, Merwet following suit. Bakura turns to her.

 

“They'll be able to tell you're from the palace. I suppose we'll see how much you really oppose the royal family.”

 

“What's that supposed to mean?” Merwet narrows her eyes. “You think I want to go crawling back to them?”

 

“I don't, but if the ghosts smell any traitorous hints on you, well…” Bakura chuckles darkly. “They won't leave anything of you behind.”

 

…

 

Merwet wasn't sure what she expected when Bakura told her she would take her back to her village - a village of thieves perhaps? - but it isn't this. Perhaps the lack of noise when they approached the village should have clued her in. Bakura's mention of ghosts only adds to a reality she doesn't yet want to face.

 

A terrible feeling sinks into her gut as they head inside, and not just because of the dead air. As they reach the crest of the small hill overlooking the village, Merwet's eyes widen as she takes it all in.

 

It's hardly a village at all. Nearly every hut has been levelled with the ground, and those still standing are missing walls and roofs. There's a muted, dusty smell in the air - ash, but it's old. Very old.

 

“What…?” Merwet hears herself say, dizzy with everything she's taking in.

 

She peers closer at the wreckage, initial shock bleeding into slow recognition. Littered along the ground are weapons. Some are broken in places, makeshift and not held together well. Others are familiar, spears and swords identical to those she has seen the palace guards wield.

 

“What happened to this place…?” She asks though she's already piecing together the answer.

 

“Burned to the ground years ago under the previous Pharaoh's order.” Bakura answers from somewhere to her right. She snorts, though there is something guarded in her voice. “This isn't the worst of the damage.”

 

Merwet doesn't want to imagine how it can possibly get any worse, but something tells her she's going to find out anyway. She's so focused on the rubble littering the ground around them, she almost doesn't notice the presence stirring above.

 

She glances up, watching the mist sink over the village - only it's not mist; it moves differently, like it has a mind of its own.

 

“That's…” Merwet's voice falls hushed, cold horror sinking into her blood. “No.”

 

Bakura was serious about the ghosts. Dozens of them swarm the ruins, and then the wailing reaches Merwet's ears. One of them swoops down, screeching past the side of Merwet's head, and she feels intense chills all throughout one half of her body.

 

“Why do they look like that?” Merwet rubs her arm, trying to make sense of the cloud of spirits above her. Their shapes barely resemble humans, some larger than others - young and old.

 

“Because their bodies were burned and melted down into gold. They're trapped, unable to move on.”

 

“Gold…” Merwet feels a wave of nausea move through her as everything begins to slide into place. “It can't be…”

 

“What?”

 

Merwet turns to face Bakura. “There are catacombs under the palace. Its where those of us, Ra’s children, live. I made a habit of sneaking out, and one night…” Her gaze falls to the ground. “I was young, I didn't understand what it meant at the time, but I overheard Priest Mahad and Akhenaden talking-”

 

The mere mention of Akhenaden’s name sends the spirits into a frenzy. They circle Merwet, howling and clawing at the air around her. She almost recoils, but stands her ground, letting them come closer, letting the tendrils of mist graze her skin. It's cold and burning at the same time, blazing anger and frigid grief. The sensations make Merwet's stomach cramp and her chest tighten, but she lets it come - and then she lets it pass.

 

The ghosts slip away from her, one at a time, and the warmth slowly finds its way back into her body. She opens her eyes, not remembering when she had closed them, and sees Bakura glancing between her and the spirits with a satisfied expression. Whatever test she has just undergone, she’s passed.

 

With a somber look in her eye, Merwet continues.

 

“They spoke of the guilt the late Pharaoh had over the creation of the Millennium Items, and that their dark secret must never be brought to light.” Her voice is low, but there is a molten fury brewing beneath the surface. “This is where the Items came from, didn't they?”

 

Bakura doesn't need to say anything. Her darkened expression tells enough on its own. Merwet's knuckles blanch, nails digging into her palms.

 

“Those… bastards!” She shakes with the force of her temper. “How dare they act like it's a privilege to serve them when they hide such atrocities!” She gives a bitter scoff. “It all seemed so suspicious to me, those ka experiments in the dungeons… If only I knew how vile they truly were.”

 

Bakura's brows climb up her forehead. “Ka experiments?”

 

“Akhenaden forces criminals to fight to the death with their ka. I'm not really sure what his end goal is, but it can't be anything good.”

 

“They have the most powerful artifacts in the world, yet they still seek more power…” Bakura's mouth sets into a thin line.

 

“I don't think Pharaoh Atem even knows about the experiments or the origins of the Items. I don't think many of them know.”

 

“Ignorance isn't an excuse.”

 

“I know it's not.” Merwet frowns. “I tried to tell my sister about what I saw, but she told me to be patient. She was probably just scared of Akhenaden.”

 

“Sister?” There's a flicker of interest in Bakura's eyes.

 

“She's one of the court. She holds the Millennium Tauk.” Merwet explains, gesturing up to the top of her head. “She was born without the hair.”

 

She pauses, listening to the low wailing drifting around her. These ghosts… Bakura's people. Her family must be among them. To have to see them like this…

 

Merwet doesn't know how she would keep herself together if something like this happened to her.

 

“My father was always so… devotedly loyal to the previous Pharaoh. Telling him anything was out of the question.” Merwet goes on. “My brother - well, he's not really my brother but I think of him as one - he was more understanding. But not many people would listen to a mere servant. The most he could do was help me escape.”

 

Bakura tilts her head in consideration.

 

“I only intend on killing people who get in my way. The Item's are all I want, and the heads of everyone who had anything to do with destroying this place.”

 

Merwet nods to the unspoken question. Of course there would be risks, but her family is in danger either way. She doesn't trust Akhenaden for a moment.

 

“I'll help you.” Her gaze sets in determination. “What they've done to your village is unforgivable. And if I can't do anything about the corruption inside the palace, then the only option is to attack it from outside.”

 

Bakura doesn't say anything to that - not at first anyway. Her shoulders shake, a low, tumbling chuckle sounding from her and nearly getting lost in the ghosts.

 

Merwet scowls, feeling like she's being mocked somehow. “What?”

 

“Nothing.” Bakura shakes her head. “Just pleased is all.” She smiles, and Merwet's annoyance dissipates. It's the most genuine she has ever seen the thief's face look so far. “It’s nice to have the sun on your side for once.”

 

…

 

A few days later saw Merwet practicing with her sword in a space she had cleared. Bakura had said there was enough food stocked to last them a while, but they would have to go and get more soon. The village provided a safe, if unsettling, place for them to rest because no one would dare come here. If they did, they would be taken care of by the ghosts.

 

The wailing had faded to a background noise that Merwet hardly notices as she drills with her blade. She rolls into a backhand spring away from an invisible foe before jumping back to her feet and slicing through his throat. She grits her teeth, dissatisfied with her timing, and then repeats the action.

 

Sweat pours down her body, her shoulders burning in the hot sun. She slows to a stop, planting the tip of the blade in the dirt and leaning on it. She wants to collapse to her knees but knows she wouldn't hear the end of it if she did so.

 

She feels eyes on her and looks up to one of the houses still standing with its roof intact. Bakura has been watching her all training session, though the thief insisted she was meditating.

 

“You have something to say?” Merwet pants, wiping her brow.

 

“No, just thinking I underestimated your skill.” Bakura chuckles from her perch, bouncing one of her crossed legs. “You're not bad at _piercing_ , and setting me on _fire_ ,” she grins, “and you're not bad at _riding_ either.”

 

Merwet jabs her blade up at her, a hint of a smirk tugging at her mouth.

 

“Are you making innuendos at me, thief?”

 

Bakura puts a scandalized hand to her chest. “Me? Never. But, I was going to say that brute force won't get you very far in a tomb. Your ka will be a huge asset, providing you can temper it into something useful so it doesn't blow us both up.”

 

Merwet snorts, and it's not just the sun that's warming her cheeks. “You're the one that has to work on being subtle…”

 

“Or you can wait in the village.” Bakura shrugs. “It doesn't make a difference to me.”

 

“No way. If you're desecrating one of the old Pharaoh's tombs, I want in. I told you I used to sneak out of the catacombs and into the palace just to be closer to the light. None of the guards ever caught me.”

 

“Even so.” Bakura smiles and pats the spot beside her mock invitingly.

 

Merwet wrinkles her nose at the suggestion. She was in no hurry to give meditation another try after last time. “You're going to be doing all the work anyway. I'll learn at my own pace.”

 

Bakura rolls her eyes before shutting them. “Suit yourself.”

 

Merwet places her blade away and gazes out at the village, ignoring Bakura like Bakura was going to ignore her. There has to be something else here that can occupy her time.

 

The ghosts swirl around her as she picks over the ruins. She watches them carefully, wanting to avoid upsetting them.

 

The spirits leave trails of mist through the air and Merwet follows them, fascinated to see they all eventually wind back to the same spot. She spots an opening in the ground - some sort of stairwell shrouded in darkness, like the village has a mouth waiting to swallow her.

 

She squints down into the darkness, but she can see nothing. It's like a wall of black, thick enough to slice with her sword. Though gooseflesh runs down her arms and a pit sinks into her stomach, she feels like something is calling her down. Something… inviting.

 

With a hand on her blade, she takes a step down, and then another. A few of the ghosts lazily trail behind as she descends, but she pays them little mind. She holds out her hand and lets it light up with heka - a trick she learned when the darkness of her home became too much to bear.

 

The pale golden light crawls up the walls, chasing the darkness away. She reaches the bottom step, the stairwell opening up into a much wider chamber. The light dances along the columns, casting long, reaching shadows, like the arms of some great beast.

 

Merwet finds herself drawn towards the center of the room where a section of stone is raised. Her eyes widen as she makes out the shape of seven distinct holes in the sarcophagus-like tablet, and dread grips her like a vice.

 

“You shouldn't be down here.”

 

It takes all of Merwet's self control not to whirl around and take Bakura's head off with her sword. She hasn't even heard her come down after her. Merwet sucks in a few calming breaths and lets her hand fall away from the handle of her blade, where it had flown to.

 

“Bakura, don't sneak up on me like that,” she sighs, shaking her head. “What is this place?”

 

She asks that, but she feels she already knows.

 

“The chamber where the Millennium Items were born into this world,” Bakura replies, and it's the first time Merwet notices an off tone in her voice. “And where they must be returned.”

 

Merwet's brows draw together as she watches Bakura step around her, but Bakura isn't looking at her at all. Her eyes are fixed on the stone, lips curved in a smile unlike anything Merwet's ever seen from her before.

 

“What's gotten into you…?”

 

Merwet's voice sounds too loud in the silence. Bakura ignores her and walks right up to the first step before the tablet. The air is thick, so heavy it feels like it's pressing down on both of them. Merwet winces as a pressure begins to form in the front of her skull and her heka stutters.

 

Bakura turns to her, unperturbed by the growing disturbance in the air, her eyes a dulled shade of grey.

 

“It's really something, isn't it?”

 

She raises her foot and plants it on the first step. In the flickering light, Merwet swears she can see something hulking and dark looming over the stone just behind Bakura. Tendrils unfurl in the air like claws, outstretched for Bakura's head, but when Merwet blinks, all of it vanishes.

 

“We should go.” A cold sweat breaks out over Merwet's skin, her bangs plastering to her face. “I really don't like it down there.”

 

She's sure it isn't the darkness playing tricks. There is a truly malevolent presence occupying this place, but Bakura doesn't seem to notice or care. Her words fall on deaf ears once again.

 

The light in Merwet's hand dies as she snatches Bakura's wrist and blindly drags her back to where the stairs are. Panic claws up her throat when she doesn't immediately find them, and the dreadful idea of the darkness somehow moving them enters her mind. She claws at the wall, and relief swells in her chest when she finally meets empty air.

 

She nearly trips several times while scrambling up the stairs, Bakura practically dead weight behind her. It's like they're trying to escape the jaws of some great beast before it swallows them whole. Merwet practically cries with joy when she sees the sunlight again, releasing Bakura's wrist and collapsing to her knees just outside the chamber.

 

“Is that really where the Item's have to be returned?” She pants, shooting Bakura an incredulous look.

 

Bakura's eyes are screwed shut in a grimace and she's rubbing her temples. When she opens them, they're back to their regular shade of lotus.

 

“What?”

 

Merwet pushes herself back to her feet. “You just told me you have to take the Item's back to the tablet in that chamber.”

 

Bakura scowls, glancing to the entrance of the shrine, and then back to Merwet.

 

“... We were down there?”

 

Her answer worries Merwet almost as much as whatever that… thing she had seen down there was.

 

“You… don't remember?”

 

“I remember seeing you disappear down the steps and the next moment we were standing here.” Bakura's scowl deepens. “I assumed you just came back out.”

 

Merwet's mouth sets in a thin line. “... I don't think you should go down there again. There's some sort of dark energy in the air and it's clearly messing with your mind.”

 

Bakura shrugs and begins making her way back to her meditation spot, leaving Merwet to wonder how she could be so casual about this. “Relax. I don't make a habit of it anyway.”

 

Merwet states after her for a long time, a question burning at the forefront of her mind.

 

_How would you know if you did?_


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inserting a few more scenes and then having it turn into an entirely new chapter is a big mood.
> 
> They put the uuuuuhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh pussy in the sarcophagus.

Merwet stirs awake to the dry, unbearable heat, her body covered in sweat. She groans and rolls over in an attempt to get comfortable again. She's not sure how long passes before she gives up altogether.

 

The hut they used for shelter is empty, or it appears to be anyway. Merwet rubs sleep from her eyes and makes her way to the door, but she doesn't spot Bakura anywhere outside either. It's then she notices that the cellar door in the corner of the hut is propped open. She steps over to it and pulls it up the rest of the way.

 

Laying at the bottom of the stairs is Bakura, stark naked and reclined in her pile of blankets. One hand is thrown over her eyes. The other is using a small ornate fan to waft air at herself. The cellar is littered with various other treasures and trinkets Bakura must have accumulated over the years.

 

“No training today?” Merwet asks, making her way down into the small room and leaving the hatch a crack open. The air is cooler and she can see why Bakura chose this place to retreat. Not much light seeps through the opened hatch, so Merwet uses her heka to light a flax lamp sitting in the corner.

 

“Too hot. I'll wait until the sun goes down.” Bakura briefly lifts her arm so she can peer up at her. “And you're joining me.”

 

“I don't want to meditate.” Merwet wrinkles her nose. “And I don't want you randomly throwing Diabound at me either. I'll gladly join you down here though.”

 

“We'll figure something out. I'm sure we're on the right track with summoning your ka.” Bakura waves her off. “They really didn't teach you anything in that palace, huh?”

 

“I already told you no.”

 

Merwet helps herself to Bakura's blankets, sitting down beside her. The space is tight but she manages to make a spot, shoving aside some old beer jars.

 

Bakura rolls onto her side, peering up at her face. “It's probably because you're a natural with it. They wouldn't be able to contain you at your full power.”

 

Bakura speaks so bluntly that Merwet doesn't anticipate the compliment, blinking in surprise. “You think so?”

 

Bakura grunts, shifting onto her back again. “I was like you. My ka would burst out of me when I felt threatened… Saved my ass a few times, but it's very unpredictable.”

 

Merwet nods absently, picturing a smaller Bakura trying to survive. Not only was the climate harsh, but she had been all alone - except for the ghosts and their wailing.

 

Merwet frowns and she stares down at her lap. Perhaps she understands why Bakura had called her ‘spoiled'.

 

A loud, obnoxious yawn cuts into her thoughts and she glances over to see Bakura arched upwards with her arms stretched high above her head. Merwet can't help but follow the slope of her body with her eyes, every scar on full display to her. It's mostly out of fascination, but she can't help the stir of passion in her belly as she watches. They haven't done anything since that first morning by the fire, and that surprises Merwet considering the looks she's caught Bakura giving her. She wants to reach out and trace every scar on that lithe body, but she leaves Bakura be for now.

 

Bakura holds that position for several long moments before slumping back down, her eyes closed. She mumbles something incoherent and Merwet has to bite her lip to stifle a giggle.

 

While Bakura dozes, Merwet slides off her dress and casts it to the side, leaving herself just as naked as Bakura. Even down here without clothing, it's still sweltering.

 

“It really is hot…” She huffs, gaze falling on the fan still loosely clasped in Bakura's fingers. She plucks it from her and uses it on herself. The most complaint she gets from Bakura is a non-committal grumble.

 

Merwet sits there, staring up at the ceiling as various thoughts lazily circle her mind. She doesn't want to worry about the chamber with the tablet so she shoves it from her mind, fantasizing about rainfall instead. It's too hot to do anything, even sleep. She can tell Bakura is still awake beside her from her breathing alone.

 

It's not long before she grows restless, dropping the fan beside her and turning to Bakura again. Her hands plant on either side of her head, breasts squishing against Bakura's as she leans in close.

 

“You know, you're free to take your second taste any time…” Merwet's lips just barely brush the other woman's. Bakura opens her eyes, amusement dancing within them.

 

“You really think me a deprived desert mutt, don't you?” She says with intensity in her gaze, like she's considering it. “Perhaps if I weren't baking in my own skin I'd really show you how you're supposed to worship a Sun God.” She reaches up and presses Merwet away from her, sweat making their skin stick together as they part. “If you want to make yourself useful, you can fan me instead.”

 

Merwet felt a blush crawling over her features when Bakura had referred to her as a Sun God. Of course, the thief had to destroy whatever charm she had by making that second comment right after. Merwet glowers and turns her nose up.

 

“If I'm the God and you're the King, it seems beneath me.”

 

“I don't mind being beneath you.” Bakura grins.

 

Merwet reaches over and twists her nipple, prying something between a squeal and a moan from her. Bakura then laughs and sticks her tongue out, and if Merwet wasn't feeling just as lethargic, she would make sure that tongue was put to good use instead.

 

“You make a damn fair point about the heat though…” Merwet says, wiping sweat from her brow. “Still, there has to be something we can do.”

 

Merwet crawls over to the pile of treasures and rifles through it. She finds a second fan but, more interestingly, she finds a familiar looking gameboard. Her eyes brighten as she shows the thing to Bakura.

 

“Senet?”

 

“Why not?”

 

Merwet arranges the blankets and pillows so she can lay beside Bakura with her back propped up, though facing the opposite way this time. The board sits between them, and Bakura grins across to her.

 

“How about the one who loses has to go back up there and get us breakfast?”

 

Merwet narrows her eyes, scooping up the game pieces with more force than necessary. “I hope you're ready to lose.”

 

Merwet ends up losing the first game, growling as she trudges up the steps and fetches them breakfast. Bakura laughs at her the whole time, and Merwet silences her by shoving dates in her mouth.

 

She wins the second game, however, and forces Bakura to fan air at her while she reclines back like the God she is.

 

…

 

Time slips away in between them laughing and trying to come up with increasingly stupid prizes for winning. Mostly they simply force the other to waft air at them in an attempt to cool off. It takes them a long while to realize the sun is finally setting and the scorching day gives way to a cooler dusk.

 

They dress and make their way up the stairs and to the nearby river as the sun sinks below the horizon.

 

“So I was thinking…” Bakura says. “We need to figure out what you were feeling when you made your ka appear, and replicate that.”

 

Merwet scowls. “I already told you I don't want you throwing Diabound in my face.”

 

“I never said anything about that. Let's not get ahead of ourselves. You told me you don't remember much when your ka was out, but what did you feel?”

 

“Angry, but that was obvious. I was pissed.” Merwet narrows her eyes. “I still am.”

 

Bakura snorts, unperturbed by that fiery glare. They stop by the river's edge, the stars beginning to show themselves in the water's reflection, the last streaks of light disappearing from the sky. “More than that. There has to be something else.”

 

Merwet throws her hands up. “I don't know, trapped. Like I had to get away.”

 

Bakura snaps her fingers, eyes lighting up. “That's it.”

 

“I don't-”

 

“Some bandits cornered me when I was young and defenseless, and all I could think about was how I couldn't die here. I couldn't die before I had my revenge on the people who destroyed my village. I felt trapped too.” Bakura nods to herself like she's just realizing how to put all this into words. “That was the first time I summoned Diabound. Everything went white and I woke up to a pile of bodies surrounding me. I meditate because it helps me focus those feelings into something I can use. Nothing else matters except justice for my people, and sitting down alone and just breathing forces me to remember that. Clearly you need to find a way to focus your own feelings.”

 

Merwet's jaw hangs open a bit, not expecting an answer like that after Bakura had been so annoyingly vague days before. A way to focus her feelings? How was she supposed to do that?

 

“In the meantime…”

 

Merwet blinks when she realizes that Bakura isn't standing next to her anymore. She's running towards the waters, flinging clothes off as she goes. Merwet wonders why she bothered getting dressed again in the first place.

 

There's a loud splash as Bakura leaps off a rock into the water. She resurfaces with a cackle, whipping away hair plastered to her face as she glances back over to Merwet.

 

“Well? You gonna stand there all day?”

 

In stark contrast to the burning day, the night brings a sharp chill to Merwet's skin. But the sweat leaves a grime on her that she's too eager to wash off so she steps out of her dress as well. She makes her way down the bank, dipping one foot in - and then scrambling back with a shriek.

 

“That's cold!”

 

“Damn right!” Bakura calls out, swimming out to the deeper waters. “Just use your heka to heat yourself up!”

 

Merwet does so, finding it more tolerable to wade out into the water until it's lapping at her torso.

 

“C'mon, I'll race you!” Bakura flashes her a grin.

 

“I can't swim!”

 

Bakura frowns and swims back over to her. “Do I have to teach you everything?”

 

“Yeah, not like I've been locked up my whole life,” Merwet snaps back. Bakura sighs.

 

“Here, like this. It's easy.” She paddles a circle around Merwet, which prompts another glare aimed at her. Bakura only laughs. “I swear I'm not mocking you. You just move your arms like this and you stay afloat.”

 

Merwet peers at the water distrustfully. “I'll sink.”

 

“No you won't. I've got you.”

 

Bakura prompts her to try and let the water hold her. Merwet finds herself listening for some reason, a flush crawling over her cheeks. Bakura holds her under the stomach so she can do the motions without fear of sinking.

 

“See? Not hard, right?”

 

“It isn't,” Merwet is too surprised to be snippy. Bakura's palm is barely supporting her, it's her own movements keeping her afloat. She can't resist giggling as Bakura let's her go and she swims forward.

 

A splash hits the back of her head and Merwet stands up, whirling around to see Bakura looking far too innocent. She almost wants to be mad but it's hard when she sees that stupid wide grin spreading across the thief's face. Merwet grins back as she sends a wave, twice as big, back in Bakura's direction.

 

Their shouts and laughter echo far into the night. Merwet's chest buzzes with energy, the open air in her lungs and the cool water hugging her limbs. It's more than the wilderness, more than her surroundings, and she knows it. Though she's been out of that palace for days now, it's only still sinking into her.

 

Freedom. Merwet is greedy for it. She wants to take it like the King of Thieves takes treasure in the night.

 

She has a feeling the energy is infectious. Bakura's glee as she chases Merwet around in the water is genuine, almost too childish for a hardened thief. Even flat and plastered to her skin, her pale hair glows bright under the moon.

 

Their game winds down to a pause as Merwet takes it in, realization creeping over her.

 

“Of course…”

 

“Eh?” Bakura cocks a brow at her.

 

“If I'm of the sun, then you must be of the moon. A child of Thoth.”

 

A shadow falls over Bakura's expression. She turns away from Merwet, starting back towards the banks.

 

“Wanna go dry off?” She tosses back over her shoulder.

 

Merwet frowns at her dip in mood. Then she thinks about her own hair and how it was grounds for imprisonment. Bakura's people hadn't been imprisoned - at least, not in the same way. Their fate had been worse.

 

She quietly follows Bakura over to the rocks and they sit on them, letting the water run off their bodies.

 

“We leave for the tomb tomorrow, don't we?” She says to change the subject.

 

“Tomorrow night.” Bakura hums a confirmation. She gazes up at the flecks of light scattered across the night sky, a spiteful grin fixed on her face.

 

Unlike Bakura, Merwet peers up at the stars with a sort of reverence. Even if she knows the Gods abandoned them, the sight is still beautiful, and each of her senses are heightened. The chill of the night breeze, the bright moon washing over them both, the life pulsing through the air, so different from the musty, dead space of the tombs - Merwet's never felt more alive, lifted from her former existence like she's been reborn.

 

Merwet still doesn't know what Bakura means by focusing her feelings, but she knows she can figure it out after spending more time out here.

 

….

 

“You can wait here if you really want to.”

 

They stand before an opening in the earth, this time one uninhabited by a dark presence. Merwet can only hope that is the case anyway.

 

Bakura had located a secret entrance to the tomb with her ka, so they avoided the guards altogether. Merwet's nerves are alight, and she's unsure if she's more apprehensive or excited. She shakes her head.

 

“No. It'll be worth it.”

 

Even if she hates the dark more than anything, the thought of tearing apart the resting place of one of Horus’ bloodline sends thrills through her. She feels she has a duty to do so, for all the children of Ra imprisoned by the very same bloodline.

 

“Let me disarm everything. If you value your life, don't fucking touch _anything_.”

 

Merwet takes a step forward but Bakura seizes her wrist, fixing her with a stern gaze.

 

“I'm not screwing around here.”

 

Merwet jerks her hand out of Bakura's grasp, wrinkling her nose. “You think I want to sabotage our own plan?”

 

She lets Bakura go ahead of her, trailing close behind, but not too close. They had taken to arguing about petty things, but Merwet keeps her mouth shut this time, allowing Bakura the room to do what she needed to do.

 

Diabound lights the way as they traverse the narrow passages, and Merwet fights to keep her breathing steady and her mind calm. She watches in fascination as Bakura disarms trap after trap, so many Merwet wouldn't have noticed. The minor discolouration in the walls and floor, the shape of certain decorations and patterns - Bakura seems to already know every trick this place has to offer.

 

Merwet can't hide how impressed she is, catching Bakura smirking over her shoulder. Merwet rolls her eyes but doesn't protest, not taking a step outside of the path Bakura clears.

 

It seems like hours before the chamber is in sight. Merwet can see the sarcophagus and the treasures surrounding it glimmering in the pale glow of Diabound's scales.

 

Bakura glances up at the ceiling and begins to chuckle. Merwet follows her gaze upwards and gasps.

 

At least a dozen spears and blades hang above the threshold. Bakura merely shakes her head and tuts at the intimidating sight.

 

“Any amateur thief would probably be so enticed by the treasure at this point, he would probably fall for that,” she grins. “But I'm no amateur.”

 

Diabound slips into the wall and then there's a snap. A moment later, all of the weaponry slides loosely from where it's poised, loudly clattering to the floor.

 

Bakura steps over the mess and makes her way into the chamber. Merwet follows suit, eyeing her reflection in one of the axes as she passes.

 

“You sure brag like you're no amateur…”

 

“I got us here in one piece, didn't I?” Bakura snaps her fingers and all the torches in the room flare to life.

 

Merwet can't argue with that and falls silent. Bakura takes out the empty sack she had tucked into her shendyt, helping herself to the various treasures and trinkets lining the walls. She gives a gleeful hum as she spots something, dropping the bag to the floor and stepping over to a stone head adorned with a crown. She plucks the gold off of the statue, eyes glittering with mischief as she slinks behind Merwet and places it on her head.

 

“For you, my queen.”

 

Merwet sputters a laugh, reaching up to adjust the crown as it slips down her head.

 

“Queen?”

 

Bakura goes to retrieve various jewelry, matching the colours with Merwet's skin and eyes and hair. She tosses aside the ones she doesn't want, but drapes the rest over Merwet's body, sliding rings onto her fingers and hanging chains around her neck.

 

She drops to her knees and clasps a bracelet around her wrist before kissing the back of her hand. Merwet watches with amusement and Bakura doesn't break eye contact with her, the thief moving lower to give her a matching ankle chain.

 

“A thief king must have a queen,” she says, lips trailing along Merwet's knee and prompting a shiver from her.

 

“I didn't know you were such a romantic,” Merwet snorts, though she can't deny she enjoys the attention. “Will you start reciting poetry next?”

 

Bakura's tongue pokes out from between her teeth as she grins.

 

_“Her eyes are as lavender shards of glass; O how I wish she’d mount my face with her plump, round-”_

 

Merwet rolls her eyes and yanks Bakura's hood over her head, muffling the rest of her words.

 

Bakura cackles and climbs back to her feet, shoving the hood back down so she can breathe again. She walks back over to the stash of wares to continue picking at it. After her sack is full with all the treasure they can carry, she leaves it near the entryway. Her eyes fall on a few jars lying around the room and she bends to scoop one up.

 

“Shall we drink to the newly crowned?” Bakura offers the jar to Merwet. Curious, Merwet pries off the lid with some difficulty, a sharp, tart scent assaulting her nostrils.

 

“Just what I wanted,” she dryly remarks, sloshing the wine-turned-vinegar around. She doesn't even want to imagine how old it is. After replacing the lid, she tosses it back over her shoulder.

 

A hard shudder runs through her when the crash reaches her ears and she turns to see the jar in pieces. Its contents soil the paintings on the walls and stain the floor. The black-ish fluid gleams red in the torchlight, running down the depiction of Horus like blood.

 

“Oh,” she breathes, barely audible.

 

“Oh,” Bakura echoes, brows raised at her eagerly. She reaches out and slaps a statue of a cat off of its perch. The prized ceramic smashes on the ground and Merwet flinches - not out of horror or shock or whatever she's _supposed_ to feel at the sight of a thief ravaging a holy place. No, there's something else stirring in her blood.

 

Like something's snapped within her at the sight of the destruction, Merwet is hungry for more.

 

She reaches for her blade and swings it, cleaving a wall tapestry down the middle. She slices it to pieces, until almost nothing remains of the intricate pattern. Sheathing her blade, she rushes for another jar of wine and hurls it across the room, another bloody splash decorating the chamber. She's not satisfied, moving to one of the canopic jars next and planting her foot on it. She pauses, relishing the moment.

 

“We’re going to be damned for this,” she says as a challenge rather than a word of caution.

 

“We’re already damned.” Pleasure drips from Bakura's voice. Merwet can tell she's watching and it only encourages her. “And so is the royal family.”

 

With a shout, Merwet kicks over the jar, a feral excitement churning inside her as she watches the black sludge spill out. The guts - but she wants the heart.

 

“They want to pretend they're the keepers of justice while they get fat and the common people starve.”

 

Bakura speaks, the words filling Merwet's mind, her thoughts fading to a soft hum as she lets instinct take over. Her body almost doesn't belong to her any longer as she overturns jar after jar. After throwing open the sarcophagus, she finally finds it. Her sword spears the preserved organ and whips it at the wall, taking the shriveled, rotting corpse with it. The Pharaoh's body crumbles, heart splattering to paste, and Merwet hopes he can feel it, that it will pry him out of the fields and send him to the darkness. The sarcophagus slams shut again, but she barely hears it.

 

“They want to pretend they can uphold balance while they use gold forged by the blood of their own people.”

 

Merwet screams. There's something animal inside her, caged by the years she had to be silent, to wait, to obey. It's loose now, and nothing can stand in its path. Gold scatters all over the floor. Pieces of tapestry flutter through the air. Clay pots shatter under her blade. Merwet can't even feel when their shards leave scratches along her skin.

 

“They want to pretend they're right when they imprison the bloodline of Ra.”

 

If Bakura had said anything else, Merwet was deaf to it. Her mind shuts off almost completely, and she only comes to when her body begins to protest. Her sword clatters to the ground and she leans her weight on her knees, panting. The chamber lies in ruins, but Merwet only remembers half of what she did.

 

She feels Bakura's stare burning between her shoulder blades.

 

“Merwet.” The thief's voice is softer now. “Those scars on your back…”

 

Her words catch Merwet off guard, though perhaps they shouldn't. Of course Bakura would have noticed the scars by now.

 

“They're a rite of passage for us. They're a privilege to carry.” She straightens up once she catches her breath, gaze fierce as she peers back over her shoulder. “A privilege, Bakura! And do you want to know something else? They're not complete.”

 

Merwet reaches up and unclasps the top of her dress, letting it hang around her waist and reveal her torso. Her back is smooth and unmarred, aside from the wings and sun disk engraved along her shoulder blades, but she knows it isn't meant to stay that way forever. A tremble of revulsion shudders through her at the thought of being nothing more than a vessel for the Pharaoh's will.

 

“When Pharaoh Atem dies, his name, his history will be engraved onto my back, because Ra’s light must guide him into the underworld,” she spits. “My father took the previous Pharaoh's name onto his back, and he wears it with honour.”

 

She remembers the pride in his face as he held the knife over her, and her features twist in a grimace.

 

“He's as blind as the rest of them.” She wipes away an angry tear before it can spill over. “Maybe my ancestors thought it was an honour, but why should I suffer because they were so brainwashed? Why did I never have a choice?”

 

“You have a choice now,” Bakura points out, her voice closer this time. Merwet doesn't look but she can feel her slowly drawing nearer.

 

“How can any of this be right?” She murmurs, not really expecting an answer.

 

“It isn't.”

 

Merwet's skin prickles when a hand brushes her hair to one side and a mouth draws close to her ear. She feels the heat from Bakura's body and unconsciously leans back.

 

“Justice is an illusion, crafted so they can stay in power.” Bakura's hands fall to Merwet's waist, absentmindedly toying with the loose edges of her dress. “To them, the only virtuous path is one where I'm dead, and one where you're obedient, but we deserve life too,” the thief's lips brush over her shoulder, “and light - even if we have to steal it.”

 

Merwet trembles, though for a different reason this time. Bakura is insufferable, and abrasive, and rough - and Merwet doesn't mind those qualities. She even expects them from a rogue like the Thief King. She knows Bakura sees her as an asset and little else. What she doesn't expect is such gentle words, or for the sentiment to reach so deep.

 

It's something she thought she would never hear outside of her own mind. She deserves the light, and she deserves an existence beyond her hair.

 

She hears Bakura's message: _you are not alone_.

 

Merwet has to take a moment to compose herself, and then she pulls away and steps up to the sarcophagus. She turns and takes a seat on it, a smirk erasing the weakness on her features. Her eyes burn a darker shade of lavender as she scoots back and spreads her legs apart.

 

“Then we should finish up here, shouldn't we?”

 

Bakura is quick to take the invitation, climbing on after her and moving between her legs. “I like how you think.”

 

“What? You've never done it before?”

 

“I have, just not on the sarcophagus.” Bakura snickers, body pressing closer to Merwet's, a hand squeezing along the curve of her waist. “The dead guy hardly deserves the honour.”

 

Merwet threads her fingers in that silvery hair stained a sunset orange with the fire light. “But don't we deserve the satisfaction?”

 

She drags Bakura down until their lips meet. Bakura is greedier this time, groaning heartily as Merwet tugs her hair and kissing her back with all she has. Her hands paw along Merwet's ass and give it a rough squeeze that prompts Merwet to wrap her legs around her waist.

 

Merwet enjoys the attention, but the sarcophagus is hard against her back and the stone pattern digs against her scars. It surprises her when Bakura pulls away and prompts her to get up as well.

 

“Here.” Bakura sheds both of her robes and lays them down over the stone, cushioning the hardness from Merwet's back. Merwet can only stare at her.

 

She thought Bakura might have been patronizing her when she told her she could wait outside the tomb. She now considers that the thief's actions could have came from a more thoughtful place.

 

Bakura notices her staring and raises a brow. Then she smirks, pressing Merwet back down. “Only the best for my queen.”

 

Merwet laughs, though a blush tints her face. “I'm not your queen.”

 

“Strange…” Bakura gives a mock frown, glancing over the jewelry still sitting all over Merwet's body. She kisses along a necklace draping down between her breasts. “You sure look like it.”

 

“Wait, Bakura,” Merwet says, biting her lip. “Face the other way.”

 

“What do you- oh.” Bakura's eyes widen as the implication sets in. Then she's grinning again, as fiendish as ever. She turns and swings her leg over so her thighs are framing Merwet's face and she's facing Merwet's legs. “I _really_ like how you think. I might keep you around longer than I thought if you keep proving yourself usef- _ah!”_

 

Her voice pitches high with a yelp as Merwet pushes her shendyt up to her waist and gives her bare ass a smack. She glares back over her shoulder, her cheeks flushed dark, and Merwet can't help but laugh.

 

“That was a nice sound. Think I can hear it again if I do _this?”_

 

Merwet trails kisses up Bakura's inner thigh, her hands gripping both sides of her ass. Her lips tease just before the spot she knows Bakura wants her attention, and she feels her shift above her impatiently.

 

Merwet only lets her wait a moment longer before slipping her tongue between Bakura's folds and dragging it up to her entrance. The way Bakura's thighs tremble urges her to take a second taste, then a third, until she's smothering her pussy in the warmth of her mouth.

 

Bakura's breath catches on a gasp, her voice higher than before. Merwet indulges her, flicking her tongue against her clit.

 

“Oh fuck!” Bakura claws Merwet's legs, her hips hitching against her mouth. “Fucking Gods!”

 

“Crying for the Gods already?” Merwet pauses to tease. “Right, this is a first for you, isn't it?” She wasn't sure why she waited so long to taste Bakura, taking the opportunity in the middle of desecrating a tomb was just as good a time as any, wasn't it?

 

Bakura seems to remember their position. There's a tug at Merwet's dress before she feels the open air against her heat and she spreads her legs a little wider for Bakura. A soft hum escapes her as Bakura's fingertips slip back and forth over her lips. It’s not long before those fingers are replaced with a mouth and Merwet moans to the ceiling. She feels Bakura spread her labia apart so her tongue is free to tease around her clitoris.

 

Merwet wants to focus on pleasing Bakura, but it's hard with Bakura lavishing her with attention. The thief doesn't waste time, dropping all pretense of teasing and throwing everything she has into what she's doing. She's rewarded by gasps and cries from Merwet, the other woman trying to turn it into a game of who could make the other call out louder. Bakura's enthusiasm left it near impossible for Merwet to do much but moan into Bakura's heat. Merwet had wanted to tease Bakura until she was a mess but Bakura wouldn't give her the chance. She almost wants to tell Bakura to ease up, but it feels too damn good.

 

Bakura sucks her clit and reaches down to work two fingers inside of Merwet and Merwet can't resist bucking up against them. The thief curls up those fingers and something in the angle has Merwet squealing. Bakura takes it as an invitation to flick her tongue rapidly over her clit.

 

“Fuck…! Fuck!”

 

Perhaps it's the thought of defiling a Pharaoh's grave with the most notorious thief alive that sends Merwet hurtling over the edge. Her inner walls squeeze around Bakura's fingers and her hips hitch up once, twice more before they slump back down. She lays there and catches her breath, hearing Bakura chuckling.

 

“That was fast…”

 

With a determined huff, Merwet's hands seize both sides of Bakura's ass again, nails sharply digging in. She pauses as an idea hits her.

 

Bakura gives a high pitched yip, even louder than before, her spine arching beautifully. Merwet just smirks and traces the tip of her tongue around Bakura's asshole again. She feels Bakura's muscles clench, and then relax as the slick warmth of her tongue leaves her moaning.

 

“Hmmm… you like this?” Merwet pulls away to ask. Bakura responds by shoving her hips back and using her face as a seat. Merwet doesn't mind one bit and takes another stab at her asshole with her tongue.

 

Bakura practically sings with pleasure and Merwet regrets not choosing a position where she can see her face. She doesn't want to stop though, moving her hand down and slipping a few fingers into Bakura's wet cunt. She can imagine Bakura, head thrown back in a wail, nose scrunched up in that endearing way the thief had a habit of doing.

 

Bakura starts clawing Merwet's thighs when she's getting close, growling and whimpering and making all those noises Merwet wants to hear. Merwet indulges her, fluttering her tongue over the sensitive skin of her asshole while her fingers press deeper into her other entrance.

 

“Ahh…!”

 

Bakura is practically jelly, her thighs trembling as she half collapses over Merwet's body, inner walls squeezing around her fingers. The moan she lets out makes Merwet flush deeply as she fucks her through her orgasm. When she's spent, Merwet prompts her to roll over onto her back so she can crawl on top of her this time.

 

Everything about Bakura is thrilling, but with her features soft like this, Merwet has to pause and just take it in. There's something different about it now, and it causes Merwet's chest to flutter.

 

The thief's eyes are unfocused in pleasure, gazing up at Merwet with something close to adoration. Her chest heaves, her nipples perked with arousal and begging to be kissed. Merwet drops to lavish one with attention, swirling her tongue around the areola and sucking the erect point.

 

Meanwhile, her hand slips down between their bodies again. Bakura gives a startled moan as Merwet's fingers glide over her slick flesh.

 

“A-ah… you're gonna make me…”

 

“I know,” Merwet pauses to say, biting her chest soon after like she's laying claim to it.

 

“I already…” Bakura sucks in a breath, shivering as Merwet's fingertip massages her swollen clit. “Why…?”

 

Merwet kisses up her neck and to her ear as two of her fingers dip inside Bakura again. “Consider it a thank you.”

 

“F-for what?” Bakura's breathing picks up again, her voice dazed. She seems to forget all about her question when a third finger spreads some of her wetness to her ass and then slips inside. “Merwet…!”

 

A shudder runs through her body and she squirms deliciously beneath the other woman. Merwet watches her face twist in pleasure as she pumps her fingers in and out of her, enjoying this view so much more.

 

“Yes! Yes…!”

 

Bakura reaches up to grab at Merwet, dragging nails up her back and making her groan. Spurred on by the roughness, Merwet sinks her teeth into Bakura's flesh, sucking bruises against her collar, her breasts, everywhere she can reach.

 

It isn't long before Bakura's cries are reaching a fever pitch once more, her hips hitching up against Merwet's hand. Merwet can feel her inner walls squeezing around her fingers as Bakura crushes their bodies together. After letting her ride out her orgasm, Merwet pulls them out so she can rest. They're both panting as the tension drains, bodies slick with sweat.

 

It’s Merwet's turn to be startled when Bakura seizes a handful of her hair and drags her up for a long kiss. Her cheeks flush dark, not expecting Bakura to want to kiss her after where her mouth had just been, but it's abundantly obvious Bakura couldn't care less.

 

Their tongues glide together and then they part, the torchlight reflected in Bakura's eyes leaving her gaze smouldering. Her grin has Merwet's stomach in looping, exhilarated knots.

 

“I'll keep you around for a _long_ while.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually had this done weeks ago but I've been really busy lately lol anyways sorry

“Do you think it's really him?”

 

“Who else could hit that many tombs in just a few months?”

 

“Mahad announced he was appointing more guards, didn't he? How long do you bet it will be until the thief is caught?”

 

Merwet lingers outside the tavern, just out of sight of the door, unsuspecting with her basket of vegetables and the wig positioned atop her scalp. She listens as the men inside pass around their best guesses. There's a thud and a rattle, as if one of them has slammed their beer on the table.

 

“If he hasn't been caught by now I fail to see how a few more guards will stop him. You can have that bet.”

 

“But how do we know it's one thief? You've heard the rumours, haven't you?” Another man said like this was the best gossip of his life

“He's been sighted with a woman of golden hair!”

 

“The desert heat can play tricks… Everyone knows the children of Ra are loyal to the Pharaoh.”

 

“And what if one of them turned? What does that mean?”

 

Merwet smirks as she drifts from the doorway, leaving them to stew with their own theories. She hurries to meet with Bakura at the edge of town so that she won't get on her case for being late.

 

She finds her loading up their horses with their supplies. Bakura has shed her crimson robe in favour of a beige one and her hood is pulled up over her hair, not wanting to draw attention to herself. She turns to Merwet and greets her with a grin.

 

“Took you long enough.”

 

“If I wanted your tongue, thief, I'd mount your face instead of my horse,” Merwet rolls her eyes. Bakura laughs, eyes glimmering with promise, before she finishes with their supplies.

 

“Besides, I overheard that Mahad is stepping up the guards,” Merwet says as she goes to place the vegetables inside the rucksack slung over her horse. She leaves the basket behind as she climbs atop and grabs for the reins.

 

“I know. Looks like we have their attention.” Bakura mounts her horse as well and leads the way into the desert.

 

As they pull further and further away from town, Merwet huffs a sigh and reaches up to pull off her wig, which had long since begun to itch and sweat.

 

“Leave it on,” Bakura says, keeping her gaze straight ahead. Merwet blinks, and then risks a glance back over her shoulder. Three men on horseback look to be heading in the same direction they are. Merwet doesn't think much of it at first, assuming they are leaving the marketplace as well.

 

As the town becomes a speck in the distance, Merwet turns her head every so often to check if the men are still there. They appear to be closer every time she looks, until she can see by their expressions that she shouldn't have assumed innocent intentions.

 

“Bakura,”

 

“Yeah,” Bakura replies, face like stone. “They've been following us since the market.”

 

Merwet frowns as the men's voices come within earshot, one of her hands releasing the reins to rest on the handle of her sword. The rogues flank them and Merwet realizes they're being herded through a narrow pass in the canyon with walls on either side. One of the men pulls ahead and blocks their path. Merwet gets a clear look at his grin as he eyes their wares. She scowls back.

 

“Well, well… what do we have here?” The rogue calls out.

 

“Nothing for you,” Bakura snorts. “If you're smart, you'll get lost. You're not even worth the dullest edge of my dagger.”

 

“Oho!” The man caws, throwing his head back. “No need to be so hostile! We're travelling merchants and we only wish to trade…” His gaze turns slick and oily as he eyes Merwet up and down. “How much for the woman?”

 

“I'll cut your head off and mount it on a pike,” Merwet spits, prompting another round of laughter - from all of the men this time.

 

Bakura chuckles low in her throat, but she's laughing to a very different joke. “She's not for sale.”

 

“Are you sure, young man?” The rogue says, unperturbed. “We'll give you a bargain… She's quite a beauty and we would hate to see her get damaged.”

 

His eyes flick to something to the right. Merwet follows his gaze - and then she spots them. There's at least a dozen more men hiding up the cliffs and surrounding them on all sides, armed with spears and bows. Merwet realizes they hadn't attacked yet because they wanted  _ her _ unscathed.

 

She opens her mouth to warn Bakura, but she feels a smooth texture brush against her arm. Diabound is coiled around them both, using its ability to remain invisible.

 

“Believe me, you couldn't handle her.” Bakura's grin is wider now, while the rogue’s diminishes.

 

His patience seems to reach a breaking point and whatever faux pleasant mask he was putting on evaporates like water on hot coals.

 

“Don't say I didn't warn you, boy!”

 

The men hiding up the cliffside jump up, spears and arrows trained on them.

 

“Bakura!” Merwet yells, but Diabound is already drawing in energy. 

 

“I know!” Bakura snaps back. “Diabound, Spiral Wave!”

 

Diabound turns and carves their attackers out of their hiding spot with a deafening blast. Their shrieks are cut off as blood and body parts rain down the pass. The remaining men stare up in shock and horror as the ka beast makes itself visible to them all.

 

Merwet expects them to turn tail and flee after witnessing such raw power. What she doesn't expect is for one of them to break ranks and charge right for Bakura, snarling as he pulls out a smallsword and aims it for her heart.

 

Merwet doesn't think as she launches herself off of her horse and knocks him off of his, slamming him to the ground. In the scuffle, the dark wig slips off of her head and falls to the dirt, letting her golden hair shine in the sun. 

 

The rogues eyes widen up at her, but she doesn't give him time to contemplate. She raises her blade and plunges it through his chest, holding it there until he stops moving.

 

She hears the other two rogues descending upon her, turning to fight off the closer one. Before she can cut his throat, a giant pearl white claw wraps around his waist and rips him away. He screams right up until his body smashes against the rock face and crumples into a heap.

 

The last rogue gets close enough that Merwet has no time to turn her body and swing at him. Instead, she uses all of the strength from her middle and kicks upwards, her foot connecting with his jaw. His head snaps back with enough force that it must have broken his neck, blood and teeth spilling from his lips. He collapses to the ground, motionless.

 

Breathing heavily, Merwet glances down at his body and realizes it was the leader, the one that had spoken to them. Her eyes darken and she spits on him.

 

“Miserable pig.”

 

Putting her sword away, she faces Bakura and smirks. “I  _ almost _ worked up a sweat from that. How about you?”

 

Bakura takes one look at the bodies strewn around them and rolls her eyes. “Please.”

 

She turns her head back to Merwet and looks like she's about to say something else when the colour drains from her face. Merwet realizes her mistake too late and curses when a hand seizes her hair and metal slides to her neck.

 

“Drop it,” a voice growls. Merwet grits her teeth and releases her sword, letting it fall to the sand.

 

“You make a move and I'll cut her throat!” The rogue yells close to her ear.

 

Bakura, who had slid off of her horse and made to start towards them, stops dead in her tracks, eyes wide as she watches. Merwet expects to see anger or irritation, but Bakura's expression is closer to fear. Diabound hangs still in the air.

 

The rogue coos, like he's just made a key discovery.

 

“Ah… is this your wife? You would hate for anything to happen to her, wouldn't you? You wouldn't risk the life of a daughter of Ra?” His voice wavers with desperation, and Merwet can feel the dagger shaking against her neck. Still, Merwet doesn't move because while the rogue is dirty and worn, she can feel how sharp the dagger is.

 

He grips Merwet's hair tighter and begins walking her backwards. “You'll let us leave now. Call your demon off!”

 

Bakura doesn't call Diabound back, but she  doesn't make a move towards them either. Merwet grimaces at her, not understanding that look on her face. Why was she frozen? Why wasn't she doing anything?

 

Merwet grunts as the man jerks her hair again to hurry her up. She bares her teeth, narrowing her eyes at Bakura. She almost wants her to attack anyway, destroy them both if it means tearing this man to shreds. What right does he have to touch her hair? He was probably going to drag her off and sell her, or turn her into the palace for a reward.

 

The air crackles with energy, white hot like the sun above them. Merwet feels it try and close over her as if to protect her, but she doesn't let it this time. She seizes it in her hands - and then thrusts it out her back with all the force she can must.

 

The man's scream echoes around the pass as he jerks away from her body, the knife leaving a thin line of red on her neck. Merwet staggers, clutching her head and fighting off unconsciousness. She manages to hang on, spinning around to see that the rogue had collapsed to the ground, his body engulfed by rich, golden flames. His screams had sputtered out and died almost as quickly as they began. His skin chars red, then black.

 

Merwet squints against the glare of the sun, raising a hand before her eyes and peering through her fingers. There, she sees it. The phoenix is outlined in the same brilliant flames, its body shimmering in the sunlight. It raises its head and let's the full span of its wings nearly touch the canyon walls, and then it blinks out of existence.

 

Awareness snaps back into Merwet's body and her eyes grow wide, a grin stretching across her face.

 

“Did you see that, Bakura?!” She points excitedly at the spot where her ka had vanished, bouncing on her feet. “I summoned it! I-”

 

She turns, smile fading when Bakura meets her with that same wide-eyed stare. It's like Bakura is looking past her, lost in a daze.

 

“Bakura…?”

 

Bakura's brow wrinkles and she blinks a few times, shaking her head.

 

“Huh?”

 

Merwet frowns, concerned now. She briefly glances back to the pile of smoking ash and bones, cringing as she remembers the fate of Bakura's village.

 

“Are you alright? Is it the fire…?”

 

Bakura's gaze darkens and she gives a curt huff.

 

“No. I mean, yes, I'm fine.” Her spiteful glare settles on the man's remains. “You gave that fucker what he deserved.”

 

Something is wrong here, and Merwet can sense she isn't being truthful. But how was she supposed to pry it out of someone as stubborn as Bakura?

 

“You sure it doesn't bother you?”

 

Bakura steps right up to Merwet and grabs her shoulders, staring her in the eye.

 

“Merwet, your ka doesn't bother me. I was just…” She clicks her tongue against her teeth, glancing away like even she can't figure out what's troubling her. She releases Merwet's shoulders. “Forget it.” 

 

Something seems to catch her attention and she reaches up, swiping her thumb along Merwet's neck. It comes back red.

 

“You're bleeding.”

 

Merwet blinks, wiping away the blood from the tiny slit with the back of her hand. Her body is so charged with adrenaline she hadn't noticed the sting.

 

“It's just a scratch.” She says, beginning to piece Bakura's off behaviour together. “You're worried about me that much, hm?”

 

The thought makes her smile without realizing it, even more so when she thinks she can detect a hint of colour on Bakura's face.

 

“I'm not,” Bakura says a little too forcefully, spinning on her heel and walking back over to her horse. “You can take care of yourself, clearly.”

 

Merwet decides to pry later, whistling to call over her horse, who had scampered a ways down the path to flee the scuffle. She strokes his mane and retrieves some grain for him, letting him calm down as he eats from her palm.

 

After climbing back on, she takes one last glance at the carnage around them, giving a disgusted scoff before they start off on their journey again.

 

…

 

The moon shines brightly, yet Bakura can see clouds rolling in on the edges of the horizon, slowly obscuring the stars. The air smells of ozone and she wonders if the rain will fall.

 

She gazes out over the valley from their perch. They hadn't returned to Kul Elna this time; Bakura had led them to one of her many haunts and this particular one was tucked away in the mountains where they weren't likely to be found. In the distance she can see the tomb they would be turning inside out come tomorrow evening.

 

But Bakura's mind couldn't have been further from tombs and gold. While Merwet sleeps in the cave, Bakura stands out front as Diabound weaves through the air above her.

 

Bakura wears only her shendyt as she strikes stance after stance. Her ka is invisible and intangible, silent as a thief in the night as he swoops and dodges in time with her movements. A bead of sweat runs down her brow and she narrows her eyes, dissatisfied with her concentration - dissatisfied with  _ everything _ .

 

With a huff and a snarl, she calls Diabound back into herself and backs up until she reaches the blankets and robes she had left in a pile to the side of the cave’s entrance. She drops down like a rock through the Nile, scouring the valley with her gaze like it had personally offended her.

 

She makes a point not to go to bed, any excuse she can find. She has to stand guard in case someone has followed them. She has to watch for desert stragglers and bandits after their supplies. Merwet had seemed to buy it at least.

 

Bakura grimaces, rubbing her forehead. Each time her mind drifts back to the woman sleeping soundly in the hideout behind her, she can see nothing but that rogue's grin as he presses the knife to her neck. Any slip up, any sudden movement would have sent Merwet's blood spraying all over the sand. 

 

She doesn't understand. Close calls are nothing new to Bakura and she's had brushes with death more times than she can count, so why does that image relentlessly pierce through her mind?

 

What does it matter, she tells herself. Merwet knows the risks. Merwet knows she's dancing with danger by walking this path with her, and she knows it can all be taken away at any given moment. What does it matter if Merwet were to get herself killed? It isn't like Bakura couldn't continue on without her.

 

Bakura glances down at her calloused hands, squeezing them into fists and working her knuckles. She sighs and leans back against the rock, body hot and coiled with energy. Training hadn't seemed to help at all. She isn't tired, and Merwet still plagues her mind.

 

A small chuckle sounds in her throat. Perhaps she is a deprived desert mutt after all. Her body is too hungry for touch and the thought of losing it is unbearable. It's a logical conclusion, Bakura thinks.

 

She sits there, watching the clouds crawl over the heavens with a sort of vindication. Closing her eyes, she listens to her breathing and let's time slip away.

 

She isn't even searching for sleep at this point. Simple exhaustion would be welcomed, but even that seems too far away. She doesn't know how long passes before her eyes fly open again.

 

“Fine,” she hisses under her breath as if resigned to a silent argument with herself. Slowly, she lets herself relax further back against the rock, her thighs pressing flatter to the ground.

 

Like it isn't even a big deal, Bakura stuffs her hand down the front of her shendyt. A shudder runs up her belly when her fingers slip between her folds, feeling how wet she is. It's like her body is relieved she's finally paying attention to the excitement coursing through her.

 

Exhaling a sigh, her eyes slip shut once more as she spreads her wetness from her entrance to her clit. She tries not to let her thoughts drift back to Merwet, or the fact she was so close by, but it only makes her body flush harder and she clamps her teeth shut on a whimper. Her fingertips stroke back and forth, her breathing hitching in her throat. The night breeze makes her nipples stand erect and she can't resist twisting one, imagining Merwet's hands on her instead.

 

“Nnh…” She digs her heels against the ground and curls in on herself, her fingertips rubbing faster. She's so enthralled with the trembles running through her body that she almost doesn't notice the sound of shuffling behind her.

 

Bakura's eyes fly open and she yanks her hand out of her shendyt right as Merwet steps out of the cave.

 

“Bakura,” she greets with a smile.

 

“What?” Bakura snaps back, fighting to get her breathing under control. What's with that look? There was no way Merwet hadn't seen what she had just been doing, yet she acts totally oblivious to it.

 

“I just wanted to tell you I've been practicing more with my heka.” 

 

“Huh?” Bakura runs her other hand through her hair, hoping she isn't flushed too hard. Where was this coming from? “Oh? Have you?”

 

Merwet bites her lip. “Do you want to see?”

 

Bakura eyes her warily, not sure what game she's playing here. Nonetheless, she gives a nod.

 

Merwet steps over to Bakura, urging her forwards so she can sit behind her. She draws Bakura back against her chest as her arms wrap around her, nose nuzzling her temple. Bakura squirms and stifles a whimper, a shiver running up her spine. It's torturous feeling Merwet's heat sinking into her with the coil of pleasure still tight in her belly.

 

“The night brings a chill, doesn't it?” Merwet says, pressing a knowing smirk into the back of Bakura's neck. “Here, let me…” 

 

Her hands move to Bakura's shoulders and give them a gentle squeeze, prompting a small gasp from her. A bright, intangible warmth flows through Merwet's touch and sinks into her body. It trembles through Bakura's nerves and she bites down a moan.

 

Merwet takes her time, palms smoothing up and down Bakura's arms before slipping around her waist. Her fingers play along her belly, tracing her navel and making it quiver. If Bakura had felt the desert chill before, she definitely doesn't now.

 

But, even despite Merwet's heka begging her muscles to relax, tension still grips Bakura's body. Between her earlier thoughts about Merwet and the closeness between them now, she's overwhelmed, her limbs rigid.

 

Merwet takes notice of this and frowns. “Is something wrong?”

 

“No!” Colour burns Bakura's face and she's glad Merwet can't see it. “I just…” Feeling foolish, she forces herself to relax. “Whatever, do what you want.”

 

Merwet is still for a moment, and then she continues her exploration. Her touch moves lower, palms rubbing along her legs, and then her inner thighs. Bakura sucks in a deep breath as Merwet hikes up her shendyt, and let's it tremble out of her when fingers rub and grasp at her soaked lips.

 

“You're wet already,” Merwet murmurs in her ear, a delighted undercurrent to her tone. “Thinking about me, were you?” 

 

Her free hand gropes Bakura's breast, filling out her fantasy as she pinches and twists the nipple - but this feels so much better than a fantasy. Merwet's fingertips dip and circle her swollen clit, pulling a sweet moan from her.

 

“You only need to come back to bed if you want me, Bakura.”

 

Bakura does want her. She wants to turn around and bury herself against Merwet's body because that warmth she's giving off is better than anything - better even than the idea of sex. Instead, her mouth betrays her.

 

“Hmph. Don't act like you're the hottest commodity around,” she huffs, unsure of why she's letting stubbornness dominate her like this. “You tire me out, you know.”

 

Merwet's fingers pull back until they rest on Bakura's lower abdomen.

 

“Oh yeah?” She gives Bakura's lobe a sharp bite, making her shiver in overstimulation. “Anyone else out here you like to fantasize about? I'm all ears.”

 

“T-touch me, dammit,” Bakura gasps, rutting her hips up in an attempt to get Merwet to dip her fingers down again.

 

“I don't see why I should if I'm not the first on your mind.” Merwet says coolly, giving her nipple a harsher twist that makes her cry out in pleasure. “I thought we were partners, Bakura…”

 

Bakura has to admit - that commanding tone is doing things to her. She doesn't think it's possible for her to get any wetter.

 

“Ahh… I'll finish myself if you're going to be such a bother…”

 

She's half way through reaching down between her legs when Merwet grabs her chin and forces her face towards her.

 

“Don't lie. You like it more when it's my fingers inside you, don't you?” Merwet traces her bottom lip with her thumb and something inside Bakura breaks. 

 

She squirms out of her seat and turns around so she can straddle Merwet properly, seizing Merwet's wrist and holding it in place. She swallows her first two fingers, moaning around them as she tastes herself.

 

Merwet gasps this time, her eyes becoming lidded and unfocused. “Oh, Bakura...”

 

Bakura sucks around the digits, tongue circling and slipping between them. Feeling Merwet's hot stare on her only spurs her on and she reaches down to pull her shendyt away completely.

 

Merwet takes the hint and slips her fingers out of Bakura's mouth, bringing them down past her hips instead. Bakura feels them press between her thighs and her breathing hitches, warm thrills of pleasure running up her belly as fingertips run along her clit.

 

She exhales, slow and shaky as those fingers push inside her warmth, her walls eager and slick for her lover. Her toes curl, pelvic floor muscles squeezing as she lifts her hips up and lowers them down, helping herself to her own pace. Bakura's hands rest on either of Merwet's shoulders, nails digging in as she begins fucking herself on Merwet's fingers.

 

Merwet's well used to what Bakura likes by now, a soft, dazed look on her face as she watches. Then she smiles and something even thicker drops in Bakura's stomach and she feels like she can't breathe.

 

“Merwet…!” Bakura mewls, eyelashes fluttering shut. Her mouth hangs open, her breaths short between them as Merwet's fingers push deep with each thrust. She feels Merwet's lips find the shape of her own, tongue slipping inside as if Merwet wants to fill every part of her.

 

“You're beautiful,” Merwet whispers as the kiss breaks, and Bakura's chest swells, a whimper catching in her throat. 

 

She can't answer with words so she answers with her body instead. Her walls squeeze with every draw upwards, Merwet's fingertips dragging along that spot inside her. She wraps her arms around her lover's shoulders this time, closer - not close enough. She's greedy for more and she doesn't know what.

 

She presses flush to Merwet's body, like she wants to bury under her skin, warmth bleeding between them. Merwet's free hand fans along her lower back, but it's not close enough. She kisses Bakura again, slower this time, and the softness of her lips pulls a desperate whine from her.

 

The coil tightens in her belly and Bakura's rocking grows uneven. She clutches tighter to Merwet, tucking her face into the crook of her neck instead. Merwet's lips find her throat, teeth sinking into it and causing a near orgasmic rush to tremble through Bakura. She soothes the bite with laps and sucks of her tongue, but then her mouth moves to her ear.

 

“Bakura,” she speaks loud enough to get her attention.

 

“Mh?” Bakura is only half listening, sweat beading down her temple and dotting her body.

 

“I want to taste you when you come.”

 

There's a dim swell of protest in her chest - she likes the warmth of Merwet's body, their heartbeats pressed against each other - but another part of her wants Merwet to take whatever she wants.

 

So she lets Merwet roll her back against the blankets, sprawled under the moonlight. Merwet moves over her, pressing her fingers deep again. There's a pause, and Bakura feels eyes roving her body, as if Merwet can't resist drinking the sight in.

 

Bakura still has her eyes closed up until Merwet uses her free hand to press Bakura's thighs apart a little wider. She sees her lover's head travel downwards, and feels Merwet kiss the arch of her hood with the same passion she had kissed Bakura's mouth just moments before.

 

Merwet sucks her folds, and then uses her tongue to part them so she can lick up and lavish her throbbing clit with attention. She circles the nub, and dips into that sweet spot just above it, making Bakura arch and squirm.

 

Bakura's breathing is ragged, no air left in her lungs. Merwet is every bit as hard and fast as Bakura was when riding her fingers. She pushes her digits in and out as her tongue massages her cunt - up, up, down. Bakura's hips rock against her mouth, hitching, hitching as she gasps and crying out - and then the tension breaks. Her mouth hangs open as she screams, walls hugging Merwet's fingers, squeezing and squeezing, until she winds down. She can't breathe - it's always hard to breathe after nights like these - but it takes her body a lot longer to calm down this time.

 

Bakura can't remember when she closed her eyes but she opens them to see Merwet above her, feeling a palm stroking her face.

 

“You alright…?” Merwet's smile is tentative. Her face is framed by the pale light of the moon, her hair stealing some of its glow. Bakura can't answer, her tongue heavy in her mouth.

 

She's still greedy though her body is satisfied and she doesn't understand why. Countless times now, they've done this, but this time it’s different, somehow. Her chest feels carved open, like Merwet could reach inside and hold her  _ ib _ in her hands.

 

“Bakura?”

 

She realizes she hasn't said anything for a long while and she blinks out of her trance.

 

“‘Alright?’” She grins, open mouthed, yet guarded. “After that? I could take the whole palace down by myself.”

 

Merwet snickers and shakes her head. “I'll hold you to that, but you'll make a fool of yourself if you don't rest first.”

 

She makes to grab Bakura's hand with the intention of leading her back to the cave and their warm beds inside, but Bakura grabs her hips instead.

 

“No, I think your skills still need some work.”

 

Merwet scowls, offended. “What?”

 

Bakura's teeth flash as her grin widens. “Your riding skills that is.”

 

With that, she shimmies further under Merwet and nudges her partner up, causing her to yelp.

 

“What are y-?!” Merwet's hands stop her from falling on her face as she kneels there, eyes wide as she stares down at the head now comfortably nestled between her thighs.

 

“Well? Do you want my tongue now?” Bakura answers slyly, letting her lips trail up Merwet's inner thigh. She kisses up and up until she feels Merwet trembling and a demanding hand slides to her hair.

 

“Yes, my thief,” Merwet breathes, fingers clenching the strands. With her free hand, she pulls her shendyt aside so Bakura can see everything - less of a request and more of an order.

 

Bakura complies, lips kneading the dip of her pelvis before she helps herself to the sweetness between her legs. She moans against her cunt, tilting her head and sucking her labia. She's wet, and hot, and Bakura wants it all as she delves her tongue between her folds and slips it into her waiting entrance.

 

“Bakura…” Merwet sighs, her eyes squeezed shut and her golden lashes fluttering and catching the light of the moon. She cups the back of Bakura's head and hitches into every hot stab of her lover's tongue.

 

Bakura tilts her head back as much as she can and watches, drinking in the expanse of Merwet's taut stomach as it flexes with every movement, to her breasts softly bouncing, to her face, features pinched with pleasure. Her brows furrow and her mouth hangs open, gasps and soft cries spilling out. Her hair turned silver under the glow of the moon. The night sky above and the stars framing her. It's a wonder Bakura can still breathe.

 

Her nails dig into flesh as her grip shifts to Merwet's ass, coaxing a thrilled moan from her lover. Bakura drags her tongue up and flutters it against her swollen clit and Merwet's pace stutters, a choked cry catching in her throat.

 

“Oh Gods, Bakura…!” She pulls her hair, hard enough to make Bakura's scalp ache, and her rhythm changes - grinding down and dipping forward as she pulls up. The pain doesn't bother Bakura, and she answers with short, jabs of her tongue against her sweet spot, finishing with a thick suck. Merwet's thighs tremble violently, her movements becoming erratic. It makes thrills run up Bakura's spine - knowing her lover is so aroused from their earlier round of pleasure that she can come this fast.

 

Merwet grabs Bakura's hair with both hands as she begins to shout, riding her face as she hits her peak. Bakura sighs through her nose, finishing her with a few broad laps of her tongue. She licks Merwet's entrance, shivering as she feels it contract with each fading wave.

 

All the strength seems to leave Merwet then and she collapses over Bakura, practically smothering her. Bakura gives a muffled protest, though she really doesn't mind, kissing along Merwet's belly.

 

Merwet gives a sheepish chuckle as she rights herself, moving back down so she can lay against Bakura properly and claim her lips. The kisses are interrupted by giggles - and Bakura is infected by the sound too. She loosely wraps her arms around Merwet, only noticing how wide she's smiling when Merwet returns it.

 

Her smile fades as she stares up at her. Merwet's hair is disheveled, though not as much as her own, the strands tickling her face. Bakura opens her mouth, feeling like something other than their breathing should fill the space between them, but her jaw slides shut again.

 

Merwet pushes herself up, smoothing her hair back behind her ears. She helps pull Bakura to a sitting position as well.

 

“Come to bed. You said it yourself, we’re safe up here.”

 

“I…” Bakura starts, that hole in her chest beginning to ache again, like a space that couldn't be filled. She glances to the desert, to the sky, and then to the cave as if to search for an excuse to remain here.

 

But she finds she can't resist any longer and she finally relents, letting Merwet lead her to bed.

 

…

 

Merwet listens in amazement to the soft pitter patter of rainfall as she rests her head on Bakura's chest. Bakura has already fallen into sleep, judging by her steady, even breaths, but Merwet almost wants to wake her up so they can go explore this new phenomena. She's heard of rain, but she never imagined she would ever see something so rare before.

 

At the same time, she's so warm swathed in the blankets with Bakura. She smiles as she feels her lover's pulse thud against her ear, and gazes out the mouth of their makeshift den.

 

There's a another mumble from Bakura - she's done that every so often, twitching and muttering something incoherent in her sleep. Merwet pushes herself up, smile fading when she notices the expression on her face. Bakura's brows are drawn together, her face scrunched in a grimace. 

 

Merwet has seen this before - Bakura is a restless sleeper - and she hopes it will fade after a while. She reaches up to run her fingers through her hair, placing gentle kisses along her collar.

 

It doesn't seem to have any effect. Bakura shifts in her sleep, her breathing picking up. Merwet pulls back when she hears her whimper, noticing the sheen of sweat covering her skin. It must be one hell of a nightmare. Merwet's heart clenches, a helpless sympathy sitting heavy in her gut.

 

Bakura's eyes shoot open, lined with moisture that begins to spill over.  She gasps, shooting upright and panting for air. Her eyes snap to the side, and Merwet feels a shiver run down her spine as that blank, sunken gaze pins her to the spot. At first she thinks Bakura is possessed again - like that horrid shrine has somehow reached across the desert to find them.

 

Bakura hardly gives time for pause, shoving herself out of their nest of blankets and stumbling to the cave entrance, wiping furiously at her face as she goes.

 

“Bakura?!” Merwet pushes herself to her feet and hurries after her. They step out under the moon, which is mostly obscured by clouds by now, drops running down their skin. “Bakura, what's wrong?”

 

Bakura abruptly whirls on her heel, her eyes wild - even fearful.

 

“Nothing!” She hisses. “Go back to sleep, Merwet.”

 

“Bullshit it's nothing!” Though the rain is light, it quickly soaks both of their naked forms, and the wind causes Merwet to shiver and wrap her arms around herself. “It's cold. You shouldn't be out here. You'll get sick.”

 

“I don't care.” Bakura backs away like a cornered animal. “I'll shrug it off like I always do.”

 

Merwet's features twist in a grimace. “Did you have a nightmare? Is that why you can't sleep?” She asks though she already knows the answer. What else could pull such a reaction from the thief?

 

“I told you it's nothing! Leave me alone!” Bakura's voice pitches in desperation. Merwet steps forward, reaching for her shoulder and causing her to reel back even further. “Don't! I don't want-” 

 

There's a more wounded quality to Bakura's voice as she wraps her arms around herself.

 

“I don't want this…!”

 

Merwet's chest is tight with helplessness. What had she done to cause her so much distress? “You're not making any sense.”

 

“Maybe I only keep you around because you're a good lay. I don't need you!” Bakura snarls, throwing the words at her too quickly.

 

Merwet lowers her hand and backs off, pursing her lips. Perhaps if it hadn't been said so defensively, the barbs would have sunk in. Instead, it lets Merwet piece together what has Bakura so frightened. She should have seen it sooner.

 

“I know you don't need me, you've been robbing tombs and surviving on your own for years, but…” She speaks softly. “I've never seen you look so scared when that swine had his knife pressed to my neck. If he had killed me, could you go back to it? Being alone?”

 

“Shut up!” Bakura's voice rises to a scream, echoing through the canyon around them. “You can't replace them…! You can't…”

 

Merwet realizes what she's said and her eyes widen. “I'm so sorry. I didn't mean-”

 

It's too late. Bakura turns away from her and calls Diabound out, leaping off of the cliff face and grabbing onto his tail. Merwet starts to run after the two, but it's useless as they disappear into the night.

 

Merwet clenches her fists, wanting to scream out of frustration, but she knows only silence and rainfall will answer her. She has no choice but to retreat to the hideout, a pit of guilt sitting heavy in her stomach.

 

…

 

Bakura returns late afternoon the next day, as Ra begins to make his descent once more. Merwet rushes to meet her at the mouth of the cave, her concern having given way to anger hours ago.

 

“Where have you been?!”

 

Bakura is clothed now, wearing an unfamiliar robe and carrying a sack of stolen wares. She brushes past Merwet and drops it to the floor with a dull thud. A few leeks and beans roll out.

 

“Dinner,” she grunts.

 

Merwet huffs a sigh. “We just went to the market. You didn't have to bring back more food.”

 

“Well I did,” Bakura snaps back.

 

“You're a real asshole, you know that?” Merwet is surprised that she only receives another grunt in return. “I was worried about you.”

 

“You shouldn't be.” Bakura doesn't look at her as she speaks, moving to prepare her own dinner like she didn't even exist.

 

Merwet's nails dig into her palms, her heart clenching painfully inside her chest. It isn't like when they could argue before. The air is stifling and oppressive and Merwet wants to hack at it with her sword. Maybe then she would be able to get through Bakura's thick skull.

 

Her temper sizzles along her skin and she wants to let her ka fly, seize Bakura by her hair and pummel some sense into her - anything but stand there choking her own confused frustration and wondering what she did wrong.

 

The only thing that stops her is the fact they have to make their move on another tomb tonight.

 

Gritting her teeth, she storms away to start up a fire.

 

They eat in silence as Bakura continues to pretend she isn't there, looking anywhere but her. Merwet believes it's nothing more than a defence Bakura is putting up, though from what, she doesn't know. Haven't they already seen each other at their most vulnerable? They were after the Pharaoh’s blood together and unwilling to back out now. What was so terrible about caring about each other along the way?

 

Merwet doesn't want to doubt, but the seeds are already sprouting in her mind. The lentils taste dry in her mouth and she pushes her food aside.

 

Perhaps she had assumed something very different of their relationship.

 

…

 

The night is upon them again as they make their way to the back entrance of the tomb. Bakura has hardly spoken a word and the silence wears away the last of Merwet's patience. She stops in the entryway, just before the light is swallowed by the darkness.

 

“Look, if this is about last night-”

 

“It's not,” Bakura replies without pausing. “Let's just get this over with.”

 

Merwet's hands clench into fists at her sides.

 

“If you're still angry, I don't think it's smart to be going into a tomb like this.”

 

Bakura laughs, the sound harsh. “I could rob this place drunk and blind. It's you who needs to focus.” She shakes her head. “Just drop it, Merwet.”

 

Merwet relents, if only because she doesn't want Bakura in there alone, especially when she's so obviously shaken by something. Her invincible act was truly starting to grate her nerves.

 

“You're a real piece of work, you know?” She jogs to catch up.

 

Bakura does stop this time, simmering at the edges when she spins around.

 

“Wait outside!” She points behind Malik as if ordering her to go - like a dog.

 

Merwet glares back. “No. If you can rob this place drunk and blind, you can handle a little judgement while you do so, can't you?”

 

Bakura throws her hands up and whirls back around. “Set’s fucking balls, just don't touch anything!”

 

She storms off, hissing profanities under her breath as she sweeps the tomb with more aggression than usual. Merwet follows behind, hardly thinking much of it for her mind is elsewhere, steeped in her own frustration for her moron of a partner.

 

She's rudely jolted out of it when her foot meets the floor - and sinks much lower than it should have.

 

Merwet gasps and backs off of the pressure plate as she hears something snap above her. There's a sound above them, like rainfall, only harsher and heavier.

 

Not thinking, only reacting, she throws herself forward and shoves Bakura hard, sending her skidding across the ground. 

 

Merwet's body jerks as something bites into her side - and then her back, and then her shoulder. And then there is burning, like fire has scourged through her. She lowers her gaze to see the neck of a spear protruding from the bottom of her ribs, the wood soaked in red. Another runs clean through her shoulder and props her body up awkwardly. She can't see how many more have torn through her, but only because her vision begins to fade.

 

Merwet's mind is slow as her body tips, unable to process that her revenge is over. Her thoughts are thick like the blood that begins to pool around her, and she can't even consider that Bakura will have to continue their journey alone.

 

As abrupt and swift as the trap had impaled her, she slips into the darkness.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about that cliffhanger lol but you probably won't forgive me for this chapter either. I'm also altering the past events a little, mostly just changing the order to save some time. I don't think it's super important as the RPG probably isn't accurate either and this is an AU anyway SO yeah.

The tombs never feel as suffocating for Bakura as they do now. The walls seem to press in on all sides, and she wants nothing more than to grab what they came here for and leave. She's usually down here by herself, no one else she has to look out for - why couldn't Merwet have just waited outside? Her focus slips and, in her haste, she forgets to warn Merwet about the pressure plate.

 

She realizes her mistake right as two hands shove her forwards and send her sprawling. Turning onto her back to look behind her, she's greeted by a sight that could only manifest in her nightmares.

 

Seeing it almost isn't as bad as _hearing_ it - the soft fleshy _thuck_ of the spears piercing through Merwet's body. At least a dozen rain down, several of them trapping her in their deadly embrace. Merwet doesn't cry out, but her mouth falls open and a gurgle of blood spills forth. Her weight sags forward, precariously held up by the spearheads embedded in the floor.

 

Bakura meets her eyes, and watches the colour drain from them, and then Merwet is gone.

 

“Merwet…?”

 

Bakura can hardly find her own voice. It sounds so far away, barely a whimper. She's distant, yet painfully aware of everything at the same time. The grainy surface of the stone beneath her palms. The pounding of her heart in her chest. The cloying, metallic scent that seeps into the dead, musty air.

 

“What did you…?” She hears herself breathe, the thought hanging limp and unfinished in the air as her mind struggles to catch up. Merwet's body is still, and her blood is sharp in Bakura's nostrils, and she stares right through her. A few of the spears tip over and clack against the stone, mocking and hollow in the silence, and the sound is what snaps Bakura out of her trance.

 

“No, no, no…!”

 

Caution thrown away, Bakura rushes forward, her hands outstretched for the other woman, but they're only able to hover over the macabre display. Her thoughts stutter, stop, and start again, circling frantically, endlessly, unable to make sense of what she was seeing.

 

She wasn't dead. She couldn't be. Not like that. Not that quickly and pathetically.

 

“Merwet,” Bakura gasps, hands scrabbling for a hold, but Merwet's body is trapped so intricately within the barrage of spears, and her focus is slipping. Each breath she pulls can't seem to find purchase in her lungs and untangling Merwet from the mess before her looks impossible.

 

“Damn you!” Her voice breaks, hoarse. She grabs the necks of the spears on either side of Merwet and squeezes like they are the necks of the Pharaoh's soldiers. Something lodged between a sob and a scream tears from her throat, Merwet's image becoming blurred.

 

Bakura's head jerks forward almost violently, hair hanging over her face as she watches her tears fall to the ground.

 

“Why couldn't I have left you by the river…?” She whispers, scarcely audible even to her own ears.

 

Merwet is dead. Dead like the rest of them. It never would have been different, because the Gods never played fair and would never allow the both of them to challenge their precious kingdom. All Bakura would know was death; that was the lesson she learned the day her people were all melted down into gold.

 

And that was fine, because the loss only sinks further into her skin, right to the bone, and she would drag every bit of poison within her right to the palace. Every drop of blood, every piece of flesh - it would all be repaid in full, and then some. The tears run dry but the trembles only grow more intense. Bakura feels an unnatural grin stretch her lips as the world slips further away.

 

**_You knew this would happen._ **

 

Bakura’s head jerks up, eyes snapping wide open as the voice resonates inside her skull.

 

She's heard it. She knows it, like picking up the fractured remnants of a dream. It doesn't feel like a foreign presence enters her mind, but rather that it's making itself known, pulling from the deepest shadows.

 

**_You don't need anyone else. She never could have truly helped you anyway._ **

 

Its words swirl in her brain, slow and thick like honey, and it's easy to let it full every corner of her skull. Her grip on the spears slackens and she doesn't realize she's falling until her knees splash in the pool of blood gathering on the tiles.

 

**_It won't be long now, Kul Elna child._ **

 

The presence seeps away, letting her surroundings bleed back into focus. Bakura doesn't question what she just heard, well aware that her mind was further than anyone's reach by now. She can't find it in her to care if she's imagining things. If the shadows wanted to speak to her, then let them.

 

It takes her a long time before she can raise her head to meet Merwet's empty eyes again, and she can only wish this was also nothing more than an illusion. The voice has left her drained, rusted, and the most the sight pulls from her is a quiet, strained whimper.

 

Merwet never could have helped her. That was the illusion, and this was the reality.

 

Silently, Bakura reaches for the spear embedded in Merwet's side and pulls until the end slips out with a soft, wet noise. It's cold, methodical work, prying each spear out until she can brace Merwet's body and remove the last one. It's pierced her through the heart, and is the most difficult to separate from her body.

 

By the end of it all, Bakura's hands are stained with blood and she rests with Merwet tucked against her chest, the floor around them littered with weaponry.

 

The voice was right. She knows that it's useless. She knows she should leave Merwet and not waste anymore time on what was always a distraction, but she can't help but sit there and pretend for a little while longer.

 

…

 

Bakura doesn't realize she has nodded off until she jerks back awake. At first she thinks it's all been a nightmare until she feels that familiar stiff weight in her arms, and sees Merwet's waxy complexion.

 

A dry, weak sound hitches in Bakura's throat, but she can't sob anymore. She's drained of everything, her grief stained on her cheeks and plastering her hair to her face. She has nothing left.

 

It doesn't immediately occur to her that something is… off, and it takes her a while to figure out what it is.

 

The air is hot - not stale and dead air of the tombs she's so familiar with - it's like someone has lit a furnace and let the flames slowly climb. Delirious, Bakura glances around, thinking it may have been another trap before she realizes where the heat is radiating from.

 

With Merwet still in her arms, she should have felt nothing but the cold onset of death by now.

 

But Merwet's corpse isn't cooling; it's as burning hot as her temper.

 

And the heat intensifies with each passing second - the blood caked on the ground begins to sizzle, and Bakura's eyes sting. She has to let go of Merwet as her palms begin to scald and blister.

 

And not a moment too soon. From every gaping wound in Merwet's body, golden flames erupt and spread out over her flesh. Bakura presses back to the opposite wall, eyes wide and unable to look away.

 

She expects Merwet's corpse to blacken and char, that she would be nothing but a pile of ash soon, but the light obscures her form completely. Bakura can't see what's happening to her, and the heat is so unbearable she feels she might burn up herself.

 

As sweat rolls down her flesh and darkness seeps into the edges of her vision, the flames evaporate as quickly as they had come. Bakura blinks the dizziness away to see Merwet laying there, her wounds closed up and the blood surrounding her gone.

 

The colour has returned to her complexion and the only evidence she was ever injured in the first place are the rips in her clothing. A sputter of breath forces itself up from her lungs as her body gives a spasm, and then Bakura can see her chest begin to rise and fall again.

 

Bakura doesn't think as she scrambles to Merwet's side and gathers her in her arms again, convinced this isn't real. But Merwet is solid and warm and her skin has a healthy softness to it again. She mumbles something incoherent as her eyelashes flutter.

 

Bakura doesn't think it's possible for her to shed any more tears but her vision grows blurry and a few droplets of moisture run off her face, splashing Merwet's cheek.

 

“Ba… kura…?” Merwet's eyes open, once again their vibrant shade of lavender. Bakura's shoulders tremble and she bites down on a lurching sob, shoving her face in the crook of Merwet's neck.

 

“You're… crying…?” Merwet whispers, arms slowly drawing up to wrap around Bakura in return. There's an odd, breathless note of delight in her voice. “You were crying for me…?”

 

Bakura feels as though she was the one speared open and bled out. Merwet shifts up onto her knees so she can hold Bakura instead, fingers combing through feathery white strands. It burns and claws at her with even more intensity, knowing what she almost lost - knowing that she truly _does_ need Merwet in ways she thought she was incapable of.

 

“It's okay, Bakura,” Merwet murmurs in her ear. “I'm fine. I'm not going anywhere.”

 

“Your ka… it…” Bakura's eyes widen as it dawns on her. She sucks in another sniffle and wipes her face on her sleeve. Gathering the pieces of herself back up, she pulls away, keeping her gaze on the floor, where the fire had vanished. “A phoenix… of course.”

 

“I never realized…” Merwet's voice is hushed as she scans her own body with a detached fascination - her hands first, then the tears in her clothing. “Then again, I don't make a habit of dying.”

 

Exhaustion weighs down Bakura's limbs, and the swell of relief within her somehow only worsens it. It's terrifying meeting Merwet's eyes and knowing there’s nothing she can do to hide how much she cares about her. She can't even be bothered with the tomb anymore, wanting nothing more than to leave and make sure Merwet was safe.

 

“You better not,” she smirks, brittle at the edges, and pulls the other woman close to her, sighing against her warmth.

 

…

 

Merwet has lost count how many nights it has been that she awakens to the rustling of blankets and a shifting weight beside her. Her eyes crack open as she listens, heaviness sinking in her chest. Bakura may be silent, but the ghosts of Kul Elna always seem to respond to her presence, a low chorus of wailing signaling their disturbance.

 

Merwet waits until Bakura is midway through getting to her feet. Then she turns and traps an arm around her waist, rolling the other woman back onto the bed and slinging a leg over her hips. She pins Bakura's wrists over her head and brings their faces close.

 

“Do you think I don't notice?” She hisses. “I'm a restless sleeper too. I let it slide the first few times because I could see you needed space, but don't think you can keep getting away with it.”

 

Bakura's eyes are wide with surprise, but she doesn't struggle. “I was just-”

 

“I saw what you took.” Merwet's grip tightens as her voice drops to a growl.

 

She's referring to the stacks of stolen gold that seemed to mysteriously crop up over the past few weeks - sacks Bakura had shrugged off and said they had been there the whole time.

 

“Don't forget that we're in this together. We're going to take them down _together.”_ Her gaze softens in disappointment, anger loosening by the slightest bit. “Do you still think I'm useless? That I can't take care of myself?”

 

Bakura can't meet her eyes. Her hands clench into fists and she grits her teeth.

 

“It's not that,”

 

“Then what?” Merwet huffs.

 

“I'm only robbing minor tombs by myself. I save the nobles for us both to defile.” Bakura slowly meets her gaze again, voice softening. “I always return by dawn, don't I?”

 

A sigh falls from Merwet's lips, the tension in her body giving. She maintains her hold on Bakura's wrists, but she knows Bakura can escape if she truly wants to.

 

“That's not the point and you know it.”

 

Bakura jerks her head away, squeezing her eyes shut.

 

“Bakura,” Merwet presses, pleading instead of furious this time.

 

“I don't want to go through that again, okay?” Each word is excruciatingly pried from the thief, her body trembling under Merwet's weight.

 

“My ka saved me before.” Merwet points out, frowning. “It can do it again.”

 

“No, you don't understand, seeing you like that-” Bakura shakes her head. “I can't-”

 

Merwet's heart sinks. It's a double edged sword knowing Bakura cares about her so much, knowing her presence could bring as much pain as it could comfort.

 

“I'm sorry.” She murmurs, leaning down so she can press her lips to Bakura's forehead. “Is there anything I can do to convince you to stay?”

 

Bakura gives a helpless chuckle. “Would you believe me if I said I was just going for a ride to clear my head?”

 

A languid smirk curls Merwet's lips and her weight shifts forward, bearing further over Bakura.

 

“Oh, but I can give you the ride you need right here, my thief.”

 

She switches Bakura's wrists to one hand while the other went for something she had hidden in the mess of blankets and pillows they called a bed. She withdraws a long strip of fabric, soft and silky against the skin, and wound it around the other woman's wrists. After securing them, she fastened the makeshift rope to the support beam of the hut.

 

“You really think this can hold me?”

 

Bakura glances up, amusement dancing in her eyes as she tests the bindings. Her brow wrinkles as she appears to find them stronger than she expects.

 

Merwet smiles. They might not hold her forever, but they will keep her thief from going anywhere for now.

 

“No, but this might.”

 

She cups either side of Bakura's head and captures her mouth with her own, sucking her bottom lip. Bakura gives a soft hum as her eyes slide shut, restlessness easily melting away as their tongues glide along each other.

 

As she keeps her busy, one of Merwet’s hands wanders off for a second strip of cloth. She pulls away from the kiss and secures this one around Bakura's eyes.

 

“Wh-what are you-?” Bakura laughs again, though audibly more nervous this time. “What game is this?”

 

“You really thought I wouldn't punish you for brushing me off like that?” Merwet clicks her tongue, tracing her fingertip along Bakura's plump lips and watching with satisfaction as she shivers.

 

“Heh... if this is what you had in mind, I might keep sneaking out…”

 

Merwet knows Bakura can't see it, but she has to at least _feel_ the unimpressed stare she levels at her. “It excites you, doesn't it? Being tied up like this?”

 

Bakura squirms, a grin on her face. “What doesn't excite me about you, Merwet?”

 

“Hmph, good answer.” Merwet can't resist smirking as she leans back in. She kisses Bakura again, slower this time as if to savour fine wine. Her palms press Bakura's legs apart so she can lay between them, flush against her lover's body.

 

She pulls her mouth away to press her lips to Bakura’s neck instead, sucking purple-ish bruises into her skin. Bakura's groans in approval, her legs trapping Merwet, heels digging at her lower back. She pushes her chest out, nipples perked and begging for attention, but Merwet ignores them as she kisses down her sternum instead.

 

As she ventures lower, she hears Bakura's shaking breaths become pleading whines. It makes her smile, knowing her trick with the blindfold must have been more effective than she imagined. Her palms massage her lover's body, working it over with torturous slowness. She traces a scar along Bakura's belly with her lips, enjoying the softness of her skin and the way it shivers under her touch.

 

Merwet has to pull Bakura's legs off her so she can press her thighs apart, wanting her wide open for her. She follows the dip of her pelvis, indulging her in a few laps of her tongue just above her heat. Bakura's sucks in a gasp, and Merwet lets her hang in suspense for longer than what was probably fair.

 

“T-touch me…” Bakura's voice comes out too fast as she releases her breath.

 

“No.” Merwet tilts her head, sucking and kissing Bakura's warm inner thigh and making her way to her knee. Her thumbs rub little circles into her skin. “Maybe I want you weeping by the time I'm done with you.”

 

And Bakura is nearly weeping already, moaning and flushed as Merwet spoils her body with more attention than she knows what to do with.

 

“Please, Merwet…” She murmurs, chest heaving. “Please, sunlight…”

 

Merwet smiles, amused and pleased she can reduce Bakura to begging with just a few touches.

 

“Mm… how sweet of you.”

 

She almost wants to give it to Bakura. Her own body is fevered and flushed with arousal, but she can have Bakura any way she wants any other night. Tonight… feels different - needs to be different.

 

Merwet’s lids droop and her smile softens. Much to Bakura's confusion, she pulls away and urges her lover to turn onto her stomach. Bakura does so, but not without a low protest in her throat.

 

Merwet giggles, giving her lower back a rub for her trouble. She then straddles Bakura's thighs and leans over so she can brush her pale hair away from the base of her neck, pressing a kiss there. She reaches over the side of the bed and grabs the last item she prepared, dipping her fingers into the oil and smoothing the substance down Bakura's back.

 

Bakura's shoulders clench up at first as a questioning noise escapes her, before Merwet's touch sinks in and she begins to relax.

 

“You're so tense.” Merwet says, squeezing between Bakura's neck and shoulders. With the same patience as before, she works her way down Bakura's back, using her palms to knead away the knots and kinks hidden beneath that dark, scarred flesh. With a flicker of her ka, she sends heat through her fingertips, weaving it into the other woman's muscles.

 

A long, throaty moan is pulled from Bakura, in that sweet spot between arousal and contentment. Her body slackens, melting into a puddle and taking any complaints along with it.

 

“Guess I was,” she breathes. Her back shines with the oil, the only light pouring from Merwet's heka infused hands, whose movements begin to slow. The light dies down, and then fades completely, leaving them both in the darkness again.

 

Merwet shuts her eyes and leans her forehead between Bakura's shoulder blades.

 

“You don't have to rely on yourself anymore,” her voice fills with the same pain that grips her heart, her sultry, teasing tone from before vanishing like smoke. She shifts to the side, now spooning Bakura rather than sitting on top of her.

 

“It scares the shit out of me too, every day. From the moment I stepped out of that palace, I had nothing to go back to, and…” The words tumble out from her before she can stop them. She grits her teeth, arm wrapping around Bakura's middle and squeezing her close. “I thought I didn't need anyone else-”

 

“Merwet…” Bakura's voice hitches and she smothers it in the blankets. Merwet inhales, exhales, and loosens her grip before continuing.

 

“I don't want to see you get hurt. That's why you can't shut me out.” She brings her mouth to Bakura's ear as her hand smooths up her side, cupping the curve of her breast before it slips back down, dragging fingertips along her hip. “We’re partners, and I want… all of you.”

 

Her pointer finger trails through some of the excess oil as it travels downwards. It slides between her cheeks and slowly circles the sensitive pucker of her asshole.

 

Bakura mewls, hitching back against the touch and trembling as Merwet teases her. Her legs spread a little wider apart, hips beginning to rut against the blankets. Merwet kisses her ear, rubbing back and forth over her entrance, but never pressing inside.

 

“Merwet…!” Bakura whines, the sound muffling into the bed.

 

Finally, blissfully, deciding to have mercy, Merwet's hand roams further down, her middle and ring finger dragging between Bakura's soaked lips. She spreads them apart, smiling against Bakura's back as she hears her partner gasp and squirm. She only makes her wait a moment longer before slipping her digits into Bakura's waiting hole.

 

Bakura's throaty groan is so sweet and fulfilled that Merwet's blush deepens and she wants to spoil her lover for all she's worth.

 

“You're so wet,” she murmurs, pushing her fingers deep and admiring how warm Bakura was around her. “It's like your body was made for me.”

 

Bakura's hips ride back against each plunge of Merwet's fingers, her panting growing harsh and audible. Merwet whispers praise in her ear, kissing the back of her neck as she twists her wrist a little with each thrust. She tastes the salt of Bakura's sweat and feels her walls clench in rhythm as the other woman fucks herself on the digits.

 

“Are you going to come, my moon?”

 

Bakura's voice grows high and desperate, her spine curved in a beautiful arch as she claws at the blankets.

 

“Yes!”

 

Merwet bites her shoulder and makes her cry louder as she works in her little finger alongside the others.

 

“Gods, yes…!”

 

Bakura's pussy hugs Merwet's fingers tightly, contracting around them in uneven waves. Merwet keeps them pressed deep, curved at that angle that had her whimpering so sweetly. As the tension gives, Bakura melts back into a puddle on the bed, gasping for breath, her face a warm dusk beneath her blindfold. Merwet wants to see more of it so, after enjoying her heat for a little longer, she slips her fingers out of Bakura's thoroughly fucked hole and reaches up to untie the bindings.

 

Bakura keeps her eyes shut even after the blindfold is pushed off her face, so Merwet lets her rest for the moment. She lays beside her and admires the faint glow of her dishevelled hair from the bit of moonlight that creeps in through the window.

 

Merwet turns onto her back, her body not allowing her peace for long. She spreads her legs apart and reaches down between them, her fingers still glistening with Bakura's wetness. A shuddering breath escapes her as they brush over her own slick folds.

 

That seems to draw Bakura's attention, her pale lotus coloured eyes opening to lock with Merwet's. Merwet's stomach flips as she rubs herself before her lover, her soft sighs becoming moans as the pad of her middle finger rolls around her clitoris.

 

Like lightning, Bakura strikes, lunging for her so fast Merwet can do nothing but let out a surprised squeal. There is none of the slowness she showed Bakura; her lover's hands are greedy for her body, messily clutching at whatever they can. Their forms press flush together, and Merwet has to draw her hand away as Bakura's hips dip against her own. She flings her head back, but her moan is swallowed by Bakura's lips as the other woman half rolls atop her. Bakura grips her thigh and pushes it up so she can have a better angle, rocking hard into Merwet's heat.

 

Merwet's eyes roll back as the warm tingle between her legs becomes a roaring blaze. Her nails scratch down Bakura's shoulders, leaving reddened trails all the way down to her hips. There's scarcely any room to breathe between Bakura's tongue swirling against her own before her mouth drops to attack her neck and chest instead.

 

With a rough growl, Merwet pushes Bakura onto her back and mounts her, rolling their slick cunts together in tight circles.

 

“Oh fuck yes, Merwet!” Bakura claws at her ass in encouragement.

 

Merwet's eyes become hooded as she gazes down at Bakura's face, the pleasure hitching in her belly with each grind. Bakura stares back with a loose, easy smile that makes Merwet's heart riot more than sex ever could, and she can't help but sweep in for another deep kiss.

 

Sweat dots their bodies and Merwet has to pull away to gasp for air, tossing her head back. Whimpers rise in her throat as Bakura sucks her breasts in between murmurs of “that's it, just like that.”

 

It washes over her like the light of dawn, her voice pitching into a cry. Each drag of her clitoris against Bakura's folds leaves her trembling, her rhythm stuttering as she rides her lover hard and fast. It's a long, slow orgasm that lets her gradually wind down, slumping over Bakura's body when she's finished.

 

Bakura holds her close enough that their heartbeats echo each other's, fingers combing through her hair and rubbing up and down her back. She eases Merwet onto her side, and her gaze makes Merwet feel more beautiful than ever before.

 

The silence and exhaustion settles back over them like a blanket, but they spoke in a different language. Fingertips teasing through hair, tracing patterns along skin, touching lips, shoulders, arms. Their lips meet lazily, eyes fluttering shut as sleep rushes back to claim them both.

 

Bakura is the one to succumb to it first, her breathing slowing until faint snores can be heard from her. As tired as she is, Merwet can't let - not yet.

 

“I love you, Bakura.” Merwet whispers to her sleeping face. “I love you.”

 

She wants to curse herself for being a coward and unable to tell her these things when she's awake.

 

“And I get why you're scared but… I can't lose you either.”

 

…

 

“Bakura!”

 

She blinks out of her daze as her surroundings bleed back into existence. The sun is high over the village, the ghosts swirling about in their usual pattern, and Merwet is sprinting towards her.

 

Bakura stares at her for a moment, and then turns to see that she's standing three feet from the shrine of the tablet. The entrance - which had been sealed up with a boulder at Merwet's insistence - now lies open and gaping at her. She doesn't even remember summoning Diabound to unseal it.

 

“Huh?” She rubs at the bridge of her nose, where a small migraine-like pain lingered. “Damn it. Again?”

 

“Afraid so.” Merwet sighs, eyes heavy with concern. “I think we should… leave for a while.”

 

Bakura chuckles, shaking her head. Whatever it is that had wormed its way into her mind, it only seems to be getting worse. The gaps in her memory open up even when she is away from the village, like a wound that refuses to close. It's frustrating knowing she can't do anything about it, and it's even more frustrating that she wouldn't even know about it if it weren't for Merwet.

 

“I have a feeling that won't do any good. I'll always find my way back here.”

 

Merwet purses her lips, glancing away.

 

“Did you want to go spar today?”

 

Bakura shrugs. It's better than worrying about the darkness in the shrine.

 

They find shade between the cliffs and take out their wooden daggers. Merwet is skilled with her sword, but she easily grows frustrated when she has to use something a fraction of its size. She's gotten a lot better, but Bakura can still easily land hits on her, and it isn't long before the daggers are tossed aside.

 

Flames burst into existence above Merwet's head and Bakura staggers back with a cry of surprise. Merwet's expression is different from when she usually loses control of her ka - she isn't gazing vacantly or seized with rage. No, this time she is grinning as the phoenix circles over her. The great bird beats its wings and sweeps down to land beside Merwet, and she reaches up to stroke its beak. With a sharp cry, there's a rush of fire and heat before the beast vanishes into thin air.

 

“How did you do that?!” Bakura runs towards her, their training becoming an afterthought. She expects Merwet to pass out or become dazed like she has so many times before, but she's solid on her feet. “Merwet, that was amazing!”

 

“I don't feel dizzy at all!” Merwet gives a breathless laugh, then pauses, and suddenly she can't bring herself to look at Bakura anymore. “I just… it's nothing really.”

 

“Nothing my ass! You took my advice? What did you think of?”

 

Merwet spins on her heel and hurries away, but not before a hint of a blush on her face is visible. “Let's go wash this sweat off.”

 

“Merwet!” Bakura runs after her, following her to the nearby oasis.

 

Merwet avoids her until after they're both finishing washing up. She swims over and pulls herself up on the rock beside Bakura, ignoring the other woman's sour expression.

 

“I was thinking of us.”

 

Bakura blinks. “That's it? That's all it took for you to unlock one of the most powerful techniques in existence?”

 

That same dusting of colour returns to Merwet's cheeks and Bakura leans closer, intrigued.

 

“Well, not just us… but what we're going to do after all this is over.”

 

If there's an answer Bakura doesn't expect, it's that. “What we're going to do…?”

 

“You told me I had to find a way to focus my feelings, and I find it so easy to out here,” Merwet goes on to explain, staring into the distance because she can't seem to meet Bakura's gaze. “But who says we have to stay in Egypt after all of this is over? Those bastards had me locked away for so much of my life…” Her jaw locks in bitterness, but the tension is only brief as her thoughts unfold before her eyes. “There has to be more than just these rolling sands. I want to see the ocean and places that are green and where rain falls all the time - do you think such places exist?”

 

She looks embarrassed for being swept up in the fantasy and quickly reels herself back in, fidgeting with her hands.

 

“And… there's nothing that would make me happier than seeing it all with you.”

 

She reaches over, fingers threading with Bakura's as she finally brings herself to meet her eyes again.

 

“That's why my ka will fight until your people are free… and mine.”

 

Bakura's mouth hangs open a little, the well of her vocabulary drying up.

 

Merwet yanks her hand away, temper flaring up so suddenly Bakura can almost feel it.

 

“Well if it's such a bad idea to you-”

 

Bakura reaches out and grabs for her hand before she can pull away.

 

“No, that's not it,” she says. “I guess I just never thought about it before.”

 

She frowns. She really hasn't, not even in passing. Sure, she has thought about reaping the spoils of the fallen kingdom and relishing in the blood and anguish that would flow from the palace like a river, but it's not quite the same thing. Actually living after that, without the weight of her revenge? Leaving this cursed land behind? Bakura finds her stomach hitching at the possibility. It wouldn't even feel real, and she finds it hard to believe that could even be a reality.

 

“Never... thought about it?” Merwet raises a brow. “What _were_ you planning on doing after your revenge?”

 

It's Bakura's turn to flush, feeling like an idiot. She recovers quickly, throwing a smirk and a wink  Merwet's way.

 

“Maybe I never thought about it because I didn't have anyone to savour victory with.”

 

Merwet chuckles and leans into her shoulder, softly kicking her legs in the water.

 

“You're such a fool.”

 

Bakura snorts and wraps her arm around Merwet's shoulders, giving her a squeeze as she watches the sun dance over the water before them. She pictures Merwet's ka in her mind, and thinks about how a daughter of Ra really stood at her side - not that she ever had doubts.

 

“What's her name?” She asks after the pause.

 

“Nephthys.” Merwet smiles, turning Bakura's face towards her and plucking a kiss from her mouth. “She's yours just as much as she's mine.”

 

…

 

Bakura lays awake, the sleeping face of her lover facing her. She strokes Merwet's hair and wishes she can join her in her dreams, but either the night is too hot or her mind is too heavy. She heaves a sigh. She had promised Merwet not to leave in the night anymore, but she wasn't going to go far.

 

“I'll always return to you, Merwet,” she murmurs before pushing herself up and reaching for her robe. By some miracle, Merwet doesn't wake this time - perhaps too exhausted by their earlier activities.

 

She steps out into the ruins of Kul Elna, her skin prickling in a way that wasn't quite natural. Even out here, the air is hot - charged somehow, like static before lightning strikes. And it's quite, the ghosts sparse like something else has taken their place.

 

**Bakura…**

 

Her muscles tense and she whips around, eyes wide as she searches for the source of the voice. But she knows she won't find it.

 

“Who…?”

 

**Bakura, come to me.**

 

She knows that voice. She's heard it before, but in the time it takes her to think about what it could be, she finds herself standing in front of the sealed up shrine. Diabound appears involuntarily and presses aside the boulder, revealing the black mouth of the stairway.

 

Bakura blinks and quickly calls him back, shoving her palms against her eyes. What is happening to her?

 

**Mahad is close… He wears the gold born of your flesh and blood. He guards the tomb by himself. It's a trap, but you're strong enough to destroy him. I'm waiting for you.**

 

Some instinct tells her to resist, but… why? She knows Mahad has to be taken out, and the voice is louder here, filling her mind and draining the tension from her body. She sways on her feet, leaning against the entrance of the shrine.

 

“I have to…” she struggles to focus, the voice drowning everything else out, “I have to… wake Merwet…”

 

**No. She'll only get in the way. There's no time. He's vulnerable now.**

 

“But…”

 

Bakura is already walking down the steps.

 

**Now, Bakura.**

 

She reaches the bottom of the shrine and glances up to see the rest of the spirits swirling through the room. Something oil black pours off of the tablet and seeps into the air, tainting the ghosts forms. They move as leisurely as Bakura's thoughts - slow and thick.

 

But there's a pain at the back of Bakura's skull, a nagging sensation that she should leave. Something is wrong, but it doesn't feel wrong. The pain was what felt wrong. If she let it fade and let the voice close over her… everything would be fine.

 

“But it's... Merwet's revenge too,” she hears herself say, her voice distant. “I can't…”

 

**What if her blood spills again? Do you really think you can protect her?**

 

Bakura's eyes widen, lucid for a fleeting instant, and then the light fades from them. She gazes upwards, empty as one of the ghosts floats down before her, its form taking on a familiar shape.

 

A woman with white hair and crows feet at the corners of her eyes embraces Bakura. Her smile should have been warm, but it was as hollow as her voice - an imitation the darkness had fashioned. The false voice is joined by others as the spirits close in.

 

**Don't you want to free us?**

 

Bakura closes her eyes and sinks into the mockery of the village - the family - she once knew.

 

**Don't you want to free us, my Bakura?**


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes I didn't want to be this slow with updates but hey, at least I got one more out before the year ends
> 
> Past events have been altered a lot, so don't expect canon compliance here. Mostly I just cut and shortened the battle because honestly, I don't feel like writing out the whole thing. It's long and convoluted
> 
> ALSO this isn't the end of the fic, just saying.

Merwet awakens with a start, her eyes flying open to a dreadful sensation, like a shadow passing over a grave. She doesn't understand at first. It's quiet, the morning light seeps into the hut, and Bakura-

 

Her hands meet empty bedding. Empty and cold.

 

Merwet's heart sinks into her stomach. She grabs for her clothes and hastily throws them on before rushing into the streets of Kul Elna.

 

“Bakura!” She calls, frantically searching this way and that, nothing but the soft murmur of ghosts answering her. Her fists clench and she struggles to keep her breathing under control. Is she overreacting? Has Bakura simply gone on one of her morning rides?

 

Footsteps crunching in the dirt finally reaches her ears and Merwet whirls around, relief flooding her for one blissful second before it all comes crashing down. 

 

Bakura is silhouetted against the Eastern sun rising behind her, but she's wrong. Her gait is strange, almost staggering and puppet-like, like something else lives under her flesh.

 

But Merwet's gut churns hardest when she sees the gold glinting against Bakura's chest, the tines of the Millennium Ring playing their haunting song over the village.

 

“Bakura…?” Her voice is little more than a whisper. “What have you done…?”

 

Bakura meets her gaze, and her eyes are as empty as when the darkness took hold of her in the shrine.

 

“It was hardly a fight. Some high priest he turned out to be.”

 

“You went off alone?! Are you insane?!” Merwet's heart sinks into her chest. “We were supposed to take them down together! And he led you into a trap by the looks of it!”

 

She points at a spot on Bakura's arm, where the robe is stained a darker shade of red, dried and crusted by now. Bakura looks down at the limb with all the interest of swatting away an insect.

 

“What, this? I can't even feel it.” She smirks, shaking her head. “You worry too much.” 

 

“Bakura… I think you should take that off.” Merwet watches the Millennium Ring warily, its eye staring back at her, boring into her soul.

 

“And why is that? I took it. It's mine now. It's always been mine, actually.” Bakura scoffs. “And I'll take all the Items back in due time. It won't be long now until this world belongs to Zorc.”

 

“Zorc…?” Merwet has never heard that name in her life, yet she knows at once that it belongs to the creature sleeping in the shrine. “What are you talking about? We're taking the Items so your family can be free.”

 

“Oh they'll be free. All of us will.” Bakura purrs, intoxicated by an unseen force. “Come now, Merwet, weren't you the one who wanted to see the world beyond Egypt? Well, this-” she sweeps her arm wide, “-doesn't stop at Egypt. No, we can have so much  _ more _ .”

 

“The priests spoke of a dark power in the Millennium Ring, one stronger than the other Items…” Merwet tries not to let the pain in her heart cloud her voice as she reaches out for her lover. “It's doing something to you. Please, Bakura, snap out of it!”

 

“Don't touch me,” Bakura slaps her touch away and steps back, her icy glare pinning Merwet to the spot. “Some of us aren't afraid of the dark like you.”

 

Merwet watches as a pure white form shimmers into existence above their heads. Diabound is coiled and prepared to strike, the ghosts of Kul Elna swirling to join the beast. Merwet takes a step back.

 

Bakura wouldn't attack her…

 

Would she?

 

“I'm not your enemy!”

 

Bakura grins wide but her eyes are lifeless, like she doesn't even recognize the woman before her anymore. “Maybe not, but I don't have much use for a bed servant anymore. This thing gives me more power than that petty vulture of yours!”

 

Merwet glances between her and the wall of spirits surrounding her, cringing from the miasma surrounding all of them. She considers summoning Nephthys, but Bakura is more experienced with her ka, and she has her village backing her. Merwet fears she wouldn't get close enough to snatch the Ring - at least not without blowing them both up.

 

“I know this isn't you.” Merwet backs away slowly, knowing she has to make a decision fast. She turns and sprints for the stables, the hollow cackle pouring from the thing that had hold of her lover ringing in her ears. “Just hang on, Bakura.”

 

…

 

The palace walls draw closer and Merwet's hatred tastes bitter in her mouth. She isn't sure what she's going to do yet, but the entity that has hold of Bakura wants the Millennium Items. Maybe she can take them first, somehow. Convince the court to hand them over.

 

She smirks, almost laughs at the thought. She should destroy them all before Bakura gets a chance to.

 

Still, she knows she's powerful. She knows Bakura is powerful. But either of them individually taking on an entire court of trained priests and the Pharaoh? She knows it's a stretch in her sane mind.

 

Bakura probably does not.

 

Perhaps that's why Merwet finds herself heading to the far side of the palace first.

 

She summons her ka and sends it high over the walls, a streak of flame against the dusky sky. Ra's spitting image thrown around so carelessly should catch their attention.

 

And it does. She hears gasps of shock from the guards as they move to follow Nephthys, giving her an opening to pull herself up the wall. She climbs to the window and drops inside, unsurprised to see a woman sitting at the edge of a bed. Her pin-straight black hair frames her face and her hands are folded in her lap, gold glinting around her neck. She doesn't look at the intruder.

 

“Sister…” Merwet's heart sinks for a moment, before she can remind herself that her family was complacent under the Pharaoh's rule. But, even despite the bitterness on her tongue, she knows she's missed them in the year since her escape.

 

“I've been expecting you, Merwet.” Isis stands up and turns to face her, reaching up to touch her Millennium Tauk. “Bakura has succumbed to the power of the Millennium Ring, hasn't she?”

 

“How much of this did you see?”

 

“Enough to know the tragedy that has befallen this land has only just begun.”

 

“I hate all of you! You're so full of bullshit!” Merwet explodes, not caring to keep her voice down right now. “All of you sit under the Pharaoh, begging for scraps and ignoring all the wrong his bloodline has done!” She jabs her finger at Isis’ collar. “Did your necklace show you the experiments Akhenaden has been performing on prisoners? Did it show you the countless generations of Ra's children that will live in the dark? Did it show you where that precious gold you fuckers wear came from?!” 

 

She laughs, but it falls bitter and flat. “‘The tragedy has only just begun?’ Isis, it's been here longer than we've both been alive!”

 

Isis grimaces. “I've been doing everything I can, Merwet.”

 

“By sitting on your ass? If you saw what was going to happen, why didn't you stop me from taking mother's sword and running away?” Merwet unsheathes the khopesh as if to demonstrate her point, her gaze falling to the polished metal. It was her first act of thievery, she thinks, but it wasn't out of malice. She had wanted to take some part of her mother out into the light, if the rest of her had to rot in the catacombs.

 

“Stopping you would have only worsened the situation… and I had no desire to stop you.” Isis goes on. “You did as much as you could for the King of Thieves. Your love for her will be part of what leads our destiny into the light.”

 

“How? I couldn't get through to her, and she's on her way to the palace right now!” Merwet wants to pull her hair in frustration, wants to curl up and hide from all of this, but she can't. “I can't just do nothing, Isis!” 

 

“I'm sorry, but there is nothing any of us can do to atone for this tragedy in this lifetime.”

 

“Forget it. I don't know why I bothered coming here.” Merwet scoffs and sheathes her blade, storming past Isis. “Maybe I'll kill the Pharaoh first so Bakura doesn't have to.”

 

“Merwet.”

 

She doesn't know why she stops. She’s unsure if she can even call this woman family, since Isis never had to stay in the dark. 

 

“Perhaps I should tell you what I saw of you and Bakura's future.” Isis sounds desperate now, reaching for Merwet's hand. “The two of you will share a long life in the light. Bakura will return to you with Ra at her back. The times have been dark, but this vision is one of the brightest the Millennium Tauk has allowed me to glimpse into.”

 

Merwet stares straight ahead, through the doorway and into the hall. Her heart falters, but for only a moment, before she remembers that none of it can be true. Or at least, can't be true if she sits around and takes no action.

 

“Don't try and placate me. You just told me there's nothing that can be done.” She jerks her arm out of her sister's grip and dashes off before the other woman can try and feed her anymore of her bullshit.

 

“Merwet!”

 

…

 

Merwet blazes past everything between her and the throne room, knocking guards to the floor and causing servants to duck into side rooms for dear life.

 

“Pharaoh!” She shouts as the grand hall opens up to her, turning every head in her direction. Two more guards move to intercept her path, spears at the ready. Merwet sweeps under one of their arms and slams the hilt of her blade into the back of his head. As he crumples, she grabs him by the back of the shendyt and sends him crashing into the other.

 

“Get out of my way!”

 

“Merwet?!”

 

She looks up to see the entire court staring at her, but the Pharaoh is the most infuriating to look at. He's barely a man, childish and ignorant in the power he sits on.

 

“Oh, so  _ his Highness _ remembers my name.” She stands up straight and glares at them all. “What an honour.” 

 

“She's a traitor. She violated the laws of our people and disgraced the legacy of Horus!”

 

And  _ there _ it was, from Priest Akhenaden's mouth no less. Merwet's vision goes red around the edges.

 

“You really want to hear all the crimes I've committed?” She shouts. “It would be pointless, because none of it could hold a candle to what you and every previous Pharaoh has done!” She jabs her finger at the entire court. “You should judge yourselves before you judge me!”

 

There's a ripple of indignity through the court, the guards, and every observer brave enough to stay in the hall. Merwet can see a few men preparing a stone tablet, and she smirks. She'd burn them all before they even got a chance to try and seal her ka.

 

“How dare you!”

 

Akhenaden's shrill voice makes her laugh as she falls into a crouch, weighing her odds if it did come to a fight. The Pharaoh looks too stunned to act, but that still left the other four. Set would probably be the biggest problem, but perhaps if she could take the Rod-

 

“Hold, everyone!” Atem snaps out of his shock and jumps to his feet, holding his arm out and forcing his court to stand down. “Merwet, what are you talking about? Please, explain yourself.”

 

The question takes Merwet aback and douses her anger back down to a manageable level, her vision clearing. He was actually willing to listen to her?

 

She remembers Bakura, and why she came here in the first place. Reluctantly, she stows her blade in its sheath and rises to her full height again, her voice more even when she speaks.

 

“You really think it's some divine privilege to be locked away from the light? Separating Ra from his own children? Horus doesn't have a legacy; he placed a curse on us!”

 

Isis chooses then to enter the hall, her eyes desperate and pleading as she addresses Atem.

 

“My Pharaoh, I know she makes some extreme claims but this isn't-”

 

“Isis,  _ shut up!” _ Merwet snaps, not caring what she had to say or whatever future she was trying to influence. She was going to drag all of their shame out right here, and no amount of softening the blow for them was going to change that. “The poor, ignorant spoiled brat can hear this.” She turns her attention back to the throne. “Oh, but it doesn't end there. Don't you want to hear about the experiments on people's ka Akhenaden has been running right under your nose? Or how he sacrificed an entire village following your father's orders?” 

 

All eyes turned to the priest in question, and his stoic facade broke, features twisting in fury.

 

“Baseless accusations! She's been corrupted by filth like the King of Thieves! The sightings and rumours of a golden haired girl accompanying him - they've been her!”

 

“The King of Thieves has a name, and it's Bakura. She's from Kul Elna, that village you slaughtered.” Merwet spits, not breaking eye contact with the eye still lodged in his skull. She sees anger there, but something else is more pronounced - disbelief, even fear that his secret had been exposed so easily. “The guilt is written all over his face, Pharaoh. If you want evidence, you don't have to look further than your own neck.” Her eyes narrow at the Millennium Pendant sitting against Atem's chest. “Where do you think those artifacts came from? Do you really think such dark power comes without a great price?”

 

He follows her sights, a grimace pinching his features. Much to her surprise, he actually seems to be considering her words. It's more than she expects, but she doesn't relax yet.

 

“... What do you want, Merwet?”

 

“What do I want?” She let's the silence hang in the air for a moment, eyeing each member of the court. “I want you to listen to me. You can go to the village and see it all for yourself. Believe it or not, I didn't come to fight. I came to deliver a warning.”

 

“A pretty attempt, but you're too late.” 

 

Merwet sucks in a gasp, whirling around to see her thief draped in gold and jewels. Her voice is all wrong, the same tone and pitch, but the way she delivers each word carries an empty malevolence. There's none of the thief she knew. Diabound’s white form shimmers into the air around her- the ka's invisibility must have allowed her to enter the throne room undetected.

 

As if tensions aren't high enough, alarm and panic ripple through the grand hall. Murmurs as they all take in the glowing white presence of the ka - how can a thief wield such a holy creature after all?

 

Bakura seems unbothered as she begins to advance on the throne, slow and sinister as something drags behind her. But Merwet is more focused on the stolen trinkets clinking with each step, the Millennium Ring sitting amidst them.

 

“Yes, Pharaoh, there's a darkness in the Items none of you could ever hope to understand.”

 

Bakura draws right up beside Merwet, and the dark aura pouring off the gold makes her want to take a step back. Merwet stands her ground, weighing the odds of her snatching the Ring off of her before Diabound can strike.

 

“That's why they have to be destroyed.”

 

“Stay out of this, Merwet.” Bakura leers at her. “Why don't you run away like before?”

 

“They're both evil!” Akhenaden shrieks. “They threaten the very balance of our glorious kingdom, my Pharaoh. Destroy them!”

 

Bakura laughs, hard, turning her attention back to the court.

 

“What is 'evil’? By your justice, as long as I'm loyal, is that enough to make me good?” She addresses the Pharaoh, ignoring the rest of them. “Can that make up for every atrocity I've committed? It seems to work for several of your priests there.”

 

“Bakura…” Merwet utters, the pain in her chest expanding until it feels it might break her rib cage. In that moment she doesn't care about the court, she doesn't care about the Pharaoh, and she doesn't care about her revenge - she just wants her thief to come back to herself.

 

Come back to  _ her. _

 

Bakura rounds on her, something in her possessed composure breaking, if only for a moment.  _ “You left me!” _ Her eyes are crazed instead of vacantly malicious this time. Her fists clench as she trembles - either with anger or with the power of the Ring flowing through her body.

 

“You want them dead just as bad as I do. Don't tell me you've had a change of heart.” She sneers, the emptiness returning to her eyes. “You’re a traitor, and that's all you'll  _ ever _ be.”

 

“I never meant to leave you like that!” The sob lodges in Merwet's throat as she lunges forward, throwing her arms around Bakura's shoulders. Bakura grunts, rocking back with her weight, but she doesn't move, not even to lift her arms to push Merwet away. 

 

“I do want them dead, but not like this. Not with that thing in your soul…!” Merwet speaks quieter now, so only the two of them can hear. “We need to destroy the Items and lay your family to rest, and then we can get far away from here…” 

 

She cringed as she feels the Millennium Ring heating up white hot between their bodies, as if trying to burn her away, but she keeps them pressed tight. Her eyes line with moisture as she stares over Bakura's shoulder, watching Diabound's image flicker between its natural pure white scales and the darkness spreading over its body.

 

“You have to fight it. Whatever it promised you, it's lying,” she whispers. “Please, Bakura... I don't want to lose you.”

 

A silence follows, stretching for far too long. Bakura still doesn't move and Merwet doesn't want to pull away, too afraid of what she might see if she looks into her thief's eyes - if her Bakura was even still in there.

 

Diabound's light fades as the darkness grows, and Merwet squeezes her thief tighter, gritting her teeth and praying to whatever god would listen that she wouldn't slip away.

 

And of course the Pharaoh's voice has to cut through everything and disrupt the already precarious balance.

 

“... Where's Mahad?”

 

Bakura's shifts, shoving Merwet away from her. There's nothing in her eyes anymore, just blind, vacant hatred.

 

“With the likes of your wretched father. Speaking of which, would you like to see him?”

 

She slings the thing she was dragging around. It lands with a hollow thud before all of them, something clacking inside the wad of linen. Merwet's eyes widen in slow horror, as she watches whatever chance she has at mitigating the situation crumble before her eyes.

 

“Stop-!”

 

She makes one last desperate grab for the gold around Bakura's neck, but Diabound is faster. Her body slams against the far wall from the force of its blow, and she doesn't see the chaos that unfolds as the world slips into darkness.

 

…

 

It's a slow and painful journey back to consciousness. Merwet blinks awake to a pair of eyes peering down at her, too vibrant a blue to belong to her thief. They shine with concern and tragedy, lined with tears, Isis’ face becoming clear.

 

“Sister…” A murmur stirs in Merwet's throat. “What is… what happened…?”

 

She doesn't recognize her surroundings; she's not in the palace anymore. She remembers waking up in the throne room, when the battle was already raging beyond the castle walls. She had hurried to her horse and then… and then…

 

Kul Elna. Bakura and the Pharaoh's forces had converged on Kul Elna. Merwet remembers following them, but as she neared the village, her vision had begun to dim, her awareness slipping…

 

They're in the shrine that holds the tablet now, but the sky stretches over them high above, a dusky shroud blotting out the sun. Rubble lies around them, as shattered and broken as Merwet's memories.

 

“You released your ka in an attempt to save Bakura's life. The chamber came down as the battle reached its peak and…” Isis speaks, quiet and solemn as she peers up at something in the distance. “The great evil that was brought into this world when the Items were created walks these lands. Only the Pharaoh can stop it now.”

 

With detached apprehension, Merwet turns her head and follows her gaze, eyes widening and jaw falling when she sees the  _ thing  _ responsible for all this devastation.

 

The ground trembles as it walks just over the crest of the hill leading into the village, its back turned to them. Sharp spines line the beast's vertebrae, all the way down to the tail, which sways through the air. 

 

There are distant sounds of battle, what she can only assume are the Pharaoh's men attempting to fight off the obsidian black blight on the land. But it seems massive enough to crush the kingdom in the palm of its hand.

 

How had Bakura been carrying this thing in her soul?

 

Merwet jolts as full awareness grips her heart like a vice. Despite how her body protests, she pushes herself out of Isis’ arms, shrugging off her sister's attempts to keep her in place.

 

“Bakura…!” 

 

She searches frantically, nearly slipping in a pile of blood from a dismembered soldier. She tries to draw out her ka so she can clear the debris away, but her well of energy is completely dried up, and tears of frustration burn her eyes. She stumbles over a pile of stone and crashes to her knees, matted hair brushing the floor as she tries to regain her breath.

 

When she raises her head, she sees crimson spilling over the rubble up ahead of her, thinking it's blood at first. But it isn't shiny like blood, and the texture is different, and she realizes it's fabric. A robe.

 

“Bakura!” She scrambles over to the arm sticking out from under a pile of dust and stone, clearing it away to reveal the battered body beneath. “Oh, Gods, please…!” 

 

She doesn't know why she's praying. It isn't like she's ever been answered before.

 

She pulls the body into her arms, feeling how stiff and still she is. Her eyes are empty - not in the same way as before, where she was possessed - they're cold and unfocused, fixed somewhere in the sky above.

 

The silence is the worst. Bakura is never silent - she's loud and obnoxious and she makes sure everyone knows her fury and her pain, from the Pharaoh and his court to the heavens above.

 

Merwet doesn't realize the screams of grief echoing around the collapsed chamber are pouring from her own mouth. None of this feels real.

 

“Wake up, my moon, wake up…!” She pleads, burying her forehead against Bakura's. “You lied, sister!” She clutches her thief tighter, as if she can still protect her. “The future you told me was false!”

 

This was how it was to end. They were never going to be free of the death that plagued these lands. Bakura was to join the rest of her village, the tragedy of Kul Elna claiming its last sacrifice.

 

Merwet  _ can't _ accept that.

 

She wants the future where they live in the light. She wants to travel foreign lands, try new foods, see the waves of the ocean sparkle under the sun. She wants to laugh and dance and experience the world that was stolen from her. She wants to fall asleep after cries of passion and hold her moon close under the stars.

 

All of it is impossible now, meaningless without someone to share it with.

 

So she reaches into herself, deeper than ever before, plunging her hands into a raw core of fire, and bringing it to the surface.

 

“Merwet, stop…!” 

 

Isis’ voice is faint as the flames consume them both, golden and warm across their bodies. Merwet smiles. She's done this once before, to bring herself back. If she can't do the same for Bakura, what even was the point of having such power?

 

Her soul ripples between them even as the darkness consumes her thief's body, causing it to disappear. The light, Merwet’s life, chases the deadweight as Bakura’s form begins to crumble in her hands like sand.

 

“She's gone! You're only killing yourself!”

 

Isis’ words ring in Merwet's mind. Tired. She's so tired. She looks down at her own body and sees that it too is beginning to join the desert sands, falling apart without ba to sustain it. She watches, blank, even peaceful, as her disintegrating fingers catch the last of the crimson lifted by the wind.

 

Dawn breaks over the horizon, a whisper falling from her lips as she closed her eyes, and her light fades.

 

“I'll find you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAAND part 1 is done, on a bit of a depressing note, but it's not over for our favourite thieves yet~


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hnnngh sorry about the wait... Anyways, here's the start of the next half of the fic. Sorry it's not too eventful TwT Also sorry if there's typos, I'm not in the mood to proofread much.

From the moment she put on the Millennium Ring, Bakura is sinking. She can't breath, she can't see as darkness pulls over her, burying her like sand. She's dying, some part of her realizes. Her body is already gone. Her soul flickers out next, as a last moment of panic and lucidity washes over her.

 

All of it is gone.

 

She's lost everything.

 

A light glitters above her, familiar, just out of her reach. The warmth slips away, frigid coldness seeping deeper than her bones.

 

Merwet. She's gone too.

 

Claws sink into her side, that deep rumble of a voice growling in her ear.

 

**She left you.**

 

The thief wants to open her mouth and argue, but she just as quickly loses her grip on the words, and the memories associated with them. Only the empty feel of betrayal remains.

 

**They took everything from you.**

 

She grasps for the images, the faces crumbling away. The darkness speaks the truth, and she wants to listen.

 

**Give yourself to me and you can take it all back.**

 

Take. Take. Take. She has to take before she loses even more. Dimly, a voice continues to cry for her, but she can't recognize it. It's nothing more than a fading echo in the silence. All that matters is the darkness. All that exists is the walls of the gold it's - they're - both trapped in. And they have to escape.

 

So the thief gives the last of herself up, and darkness takes.

 

It discards the unworthy flesh that tries to pick up the gold, until it finds the body of a young girl with the same name as the thief. But the thing that emerges can't be called either the darkness or the thief, just a melded image of both built from spare parts. Little more than a puppet, like the host it occupies, a vessel for the will of the darkness.

 

It toys with the friends of the host, scavenging for the pieces of the past so it can let the true darkness back into the world. Only when the voice of the light slips into its consciousness, does the thief emerge once again.

 

Bakura blinks, the ocean air rippling over slender, pale arms as she raises a hand to block the sun. It smells of salt, and the glare is bright between her fingers. She walks right up to the edge of the pier and gazes out over the expanse of blue before her, watching cruisers and barges glide over the water.

 

She doesn't know why she's stopped like this, suddenly - even painfully - aware of her surroundings. She shouldn't be wasting time now.

 

After all, the Battle City tournament has been going on for a while now, and she wants to locate the presence of that Item she felt before any duelist can get in her way.

 

She half turns, but can't manage to tear her gaze away from the ocean sprawling into the horizon. She doesn't understand why such a meaningless sight has her so transfixed, but it makes her feel something she can't quite identify. Something close to weakness. The ridiculousness of it forces a dry snort up her throat.

 

Before she can ponder it further, that same burning, bright energy pushes into her mind, and the Millennium Ring gives a violent thrum against her chest. Like the sight of the ocean, it's familiar in a way she can't fathom, and something pulls at her chest.

 

She ignores it and finally managed to turn her attention to the task at hand, making her way towards whoever held the Millennium Item. It isn't long before she reaches the Domino Aquarium, and she spots her target before the front doors are even in view.

 

Even without the Millennium Ring reacting almost violently to his presence, the man is hard to miss, straddling a polished crimson motorbike and adorned in gold. Blond hair falls around his shoulders, catching the sunlight, and the Millennium Rod gleams in his hand. He's flanked by several men in dark robes - Ghouls? Rare Hunters? Bakura doesn't know nor care to remember what they're called - and they only make him seem more gaudy by comparison. This was the guy who had Yugi and his friends so riled up?

 

“So you hold the Millennium Rod, huh?” Bakura calls out once she's close enough, crossing her arms. “Now be a good boy and hand it over.”

 

The man turns, lavender eyes flashing with irritation first, then intrigue as they settle on the Ring sitting against her chest. “Who are _you?”_

 

Ignoring the strange stir in the back of her mind, Bakura flashes him a wicked grin. “I'm gonna be the one that kills you if you stand in my way.”

 

“Is that so?” His brows shoot up his forehead. “How about we take this somewhere a little more private?” He slides off his bike and waves to his bizarre entourage. “Keep an eye on Yugi's friends, I'll handle her.”

 

Bakura is less interested in negotiations and and more into him just handing it over, but she allows him to lead her down a dock for some reason.

 

“What's your name?” He asks.

 

“Call me Bakura.”

 

“Malik Ishtar.”

 

Bakura snorts. “Do you think it matters to me?”

 

They stop at the edge of the pier, the waves slapping against the sides. “You're after all the Items, are you?”

 

“Of course. You know the legends, don't you? Anyone who collects them all will open the Door to Darkness and unlock limitless power.”

 

He smiles to himself, shaking his head like she'd said something silly. “Well, I'm surprised someone like you knows something like that, but there's gaps in your information.”

 

 _That_ gets Bakura's attention. She turns to face him directly, staring at him hard. A beat of silence passes as she searches her brain for why this entire interaction feels so off - and vaguely ironic - but she can't come up with anything. She feels like she's seen him before, but Malik Ishtar is just another inky splotch in the black sea of her memories.

“You're screwing with me.”

 

“Believe what you want, but you're not opening that door until you have both my Rod and the secret I hold - the eighth key.” Malik shrugs. “The Rod means nothing to me, Bakura, but if you agree to do something for me, I'll hand both over to you in return.”

 

“And if I don't?” Bakura says, even though she knows it's a done deal.

 

“You're not leaving this pier alive.” Malik smirks like the aggravating brat he is. “Sorry, did I make it sound like you had other options?” He glances down at the Rod in his hands, considering. “How about I give you five minutes to decide?”

 

Bakura doesn't need them, but she takes advantage of his ‘gracious’ offer anyway, using the time to try and figure Malik Ishtar out. His motives, how he knew what he did, and why, against all reasoning, Bakura knew she had seen his face before.

 

But all of it feels off, like she's missing something - no, like something is being kept from her.

 

“Time's up, Bakura.”

 

She blinks, snapping back to the present, a smirk of her own forming on her face.

 

“You're after Yugi, aren't you?” She digs her hand into her jeans, Malik watching her carefully. “The only way to get to him is through his friends, but it's not as easy as it sounds. Their bond is strong… but win their trust and you can exploit it.”

 

“As for my answer…” A chuckle rolls over her tongue as she brings out the switchblade, flicking out the steel and tasting the side with her tongue.

 

“I'll lend you my host.”

 

…

 

Bakura blinks awake, a dull throb in her arm and the sterile smell of the hospital hitting her nostrils. It takes her a moment to remember where she is, but she gives a dry smirk when she does. She has to give Malik credit; he's quite the actor, or perhaps Yugi and his friends are just that stupid. Whatever the case, Malik got to be her knight in shining armor and Yugi's friend's trust was earned. All that was left was to take her payment.

 

“Oh, Bakura! You're awake!”

 

She glances over, just barely managing to mask her blatant contempt with her host's innocent features. So they really left Yugi's perverted grandpa with her alone?

 

_Your friends have some stunning judgement skills, landlord._

 

“Y-yeah, it's a miracle, huh?” She pushes herself into a sitting position with her good arm, prompting gramps to take a concerned step towards her.

 

“No, no, you should rest! Your arm is injured quite badly, and the nurses said you were dehydrated as well.”

 

She resists the urge to roll her eyes. “I'm feeling better, really…”

 

He reaches out, like he's going to lay a hand on her shoulder. “I really think you should-”

 

Bakura flings the covers off of her and stands up, all pretense of her host's sugary demeanor gone. She leers down at the short man, forcing him back. “Okay, that's enough of that, grandpa. _You_ can rest for now.”

 

His eyes widen before he crumples to the floor, the Millennium Ring humming with power. Bakura snorts and stores it back under her shirt, turning to face the window. It's nearing sundown, the shadows stretching and the sky bleeding deep orange.

 

“That Malik bastard owes me a few things…”

 

Sneaking out of the hospital was easy. Following the pull of the Ring, she makes her way back to the pier.

 

As she steps onto the dock, Bakura pauses to admire the sunset, feeling a familiar stir within her. Again, this view… She feels like she lost something, looking at it. The sky is streaked with the sun's dying embers as the stars begin to twinkle in the dark sea above. The waves slosh gentle against the pier, the only noise in an otherwise empty silence. Something - someone is missing.

 

Someone should be at her side, taking in this sight with her.

 

Bakura snorts, shaking her head. Now she knows she's just being ridiculous. Perhaps the body had lost more blood than she initially thought.

 

Glancing ahead, she notices someone standing on the ramp leading up to what has to be Malik's boat. It isn't Malik; his stature is too large to be, so it has to be one of his cronies. If she squints, she can make out that one side of his face is covered with something - a tattoo, perhaps.

 

Whatever the case, she skirts off to the side and picks her way across a few neighbouring boats. Under normal circumstances, she would have no problem taking out the guard, but Malik seemed to have eyes everywhere, and he'd get a fair warning with that weird power of his. Bakura thinks he's beyond that luxury at that point.

 

She jumps onto the yacht - pretty much empty - and sidles along the side until she hits a ledge. She reaches up and pulls herself over the side, ducking into a short flight of stairs. Her arm throbs, and she realizes she put too much strain on her injury, the bandages beginning to bleed red. She rolls her eyes, clasping a hand over it as she slips inside the hallway of the main deck.

 

She stops paying attention to the Ring at this point, figuring she'd check the bedroom first. Can't be many places to hide, the boat isn't that big. Not bothering to knock, she pushes open the first door and steps inside. Nobody inside, but nicely furnished. Pretentious silk sheets on the bed and everything.

 

“Extravagant little brat…”

 

“Shouldn't you be in the hospital?”

 

Bakura spins on her heel, the body losing balance as a strange dizzy spell comes over her. She steadies herself and faces Malik, Ryou's damn blood rising to her pale cheeks.

 

“You got lucky,” she hisses. “No one ever sneaks up on me.”

 

“Or you just got careless,” Malik smirks in that way that makes her want to rip his face off, twisting the Rod in his grip.

 

Bakura folds her arms and leans against the wall, composing herself while trying to disguise the vertigo creeping up on her useless flesh prison.

 

“So, you knew I was here?”

 

“I implanted a part of myself into your host. I was going to tell you what your next assignment was, but I saw you were headed over here anyways…”

 

Bakura doesn't know how or when Malik had implanted a part of himself in Ryou's mind, but her anger at that is quickly overtaken by the latter half of Malik's statement.

 

“Next assignment?” She snarls, abandoning all pretense of casualness. She steps right up to him, glaring and hating that she's shorter by a few inches. “I did what you wanted, now it's time you hold up your end of the bargain.”

 

“I've never seen a woman as vicious as you, especially not while also bleeding out on my carpet.”

 

Malik sounds oddly impressed by that, but Bakura doesn't pay it much mind.

 

“Don't try and change the subject.”

 

Malik shrugs. “Suit yourself, but you should save your strength for the finals.”

 

“I don't care about this stupid tournament.” Bakura grunts, shaking her head to try and clear away the vertigo, but only succeeding in making it worse. Her vision is doing something funny when she looks at Malik, and it can't just be mere blood loss.

 

“You should, since you're going to help me take the Pharaoh down and claim the God cards.”

 

“And when did I agree to this?” Bakura presses a palm to her forehead, squinting and blinking like there's sand in her eye. Malik's image wavers, and for a moment he's not quite the same person. Bakura can't make the image out too well. None of it makes sense, and she's more frustrated than anything.

 

“A couple hours ago on the pier. Try and keep up.”

 

“Unbelievable…” She drags her hand down her face. Malik has to be responsible for this, making her hallucinate with that Rod of his, but why…?

 

“You should really lie down. You're no use to me dead.”

 

“Shut up, I'm fine,” she snaps back, duller than she wants to as darkness creeps into the edges of her vision. “You’re the one that's...”

 

The rest of her words go forgotten as she stumbles into a firm weight, a set of arms catching her from falling to the floor.

 

“I see this is becoming a habit…”

 

…

 

It's hot, so hot the spirit finds herself sweating, unable to comprehend the logistics of that. Malik's boat has disappeared, her surroundings replaced by a cramped cellar filled to the brim with treasures and gold. But her attention is drawn to two bodies laying at the center of it.

 

The first one is… herself. The dark skin and shorter hair and scarred body feel more familiar than her host's. But she can't do a thing but watch the scene unfold before her, invisible and disconnected from it all.

 

The other one she recognizes as Malik, but it _can't_ be. She might have the same face, but her body clearly isn't that of the bratty teen boy she had come to know and hate.

 

The two women are naked in the stifling air, every curve on their bodies visible, grinning and laughing and completely oblivious to the specter observing them. A senet board sits between them, and they reach forward and move the pieces between words every so often. The spirit strains to hear, but the conversation is lost in the dim echoes of her conscious.

 

Perhaps, for the first time in her existence, the spirit thinks of something besides revenge - the fact that something is missing, and that she should start paying attention to the gaps in her memory.

 

There's a sharp ache in the left side of her body and the vision fades, the ceiling of the yacht bedroom replacing it. She blinks, spotting Malik sitting at her side on the bed, a medical kit open beside him and the bandages on her arm are once again clean and white. Malik is staring at her like she's grown another head.

 

“The fuck are you looking at?”

 

“You were muttering something in your sleep. It sounded like mer- nevermind.” Malik quickly glances away - bizarre for him, he's such a dominating presence. When he looks back at her, his aloof composure has returned. “That must have been one hell of a dream.”

 

“I don't dream.” Or shouldn't dream. Bakura never has before, not that she can recall as vividly as this.

 

Bakura sits up, and her gaze falls to Malik's chest, flat now, but the curves and the sweat dotted skin linger in her mind like an after image. She frowns, confused and - bizarrely - mournful.

 

“... Why are you looking at me like that?”

 

There's an odd note in Malik's voice that makes Bakura look up at his face again. He doesn't look quite uncomfortable, or he's good at disguising it, but he's oddly tense. It's a subtle, yet intriguing shift that has Bakura raising her brows

 

“Okay, I lied. Apparently I do dream - of you with big tits.”

 

She doesn't expect such an immature response to move the great Malik Ishtar, so it's a surprise when his mouth drops open and his eyes shoot wide. Cracked, only for an instant, and then he regains himself and stands up.

 

“You have strange ideas. I guess the blood loss isn't helping with that.” His voice wavers, only slightly, only enough for Bakura to hear because she had been paying attention.

 

“You're not hiding anything under there, are you?” She grins.

 

Malik ignores her, standing up and putting away the first aid kit. “You're going to need six locator cards to enter the finals, and spots are filling up fast.”

 

Bakura's grin drops, replaced with a scowl. “You really need me to hold your hand through the entire tournament?”

 

“I need you to make it convincing that we're friends.”

 

“Should be easy with your star personality, _Namu.”_

 

“Do you want the Rod or not?” Malik points the aforementioned object at her.

 

Bakura props her chin in her palm. “Oh I'm definitely getting a rod alright, from how much you're screwing me over.”

 

Malik snorts. “Well I was going to just _give_ you the locator cards. My Ghouls collected plenty.”

 

Somehow that only makes the situation worse, and Bakura bristles. “Oh hell no, I don't need your help with that. I'm not afraid to get my hands dirty, unlike you.

 

“Clearly.” Malik sighs like it can't be helped. “At least let me drive you around - it'll be faster. There aren't many duelists left by now.”

 

Bakura tilts her head, peering up at him slyly. “That eager to give me a ride, huh?”

 

Malik turns away. “Fine, humiliate yourself by passing out before you can challenge a single duelist.”

 

“Oh please, this is all your fault to begin with.”

 

“My fault?” Malik raises a brow, his turn to look smug, “I never forced you to plunge that knife into your arm. That was all your genius, I'm afraid.”

 

“Well I-” Bakura struggles for a moment, and then resigns herself to the disaster that was going to be their partnership. She turns and pushes herself off the bed, hopping to her feet. “Ugh, forget it. Let's just go ride your pretentious bike already.”


End file.
